One Hero For Freedom
by Team Blue
Summary: Major Hochstetter thinks he has a plan to trigger the downfall of The Underground and finally prove the existence of Colonel Hogan's operation at Stalag 13. But he's made one mistake. He targeted Newkirk...
1. One Hero for Freedom: Chapter 1

**Berlin, Germany  
January 25, 1944 **

Angus Marsden stood under the awning of the clock maker's shop and watched as the snow fell under the light of the nearby street lamp. The light, fluffy flakes were briefly illuminated as they passed by the glow of the lamp and then disappeared into the surrounding darkness. The snowfall offered a small moment of peace and tranquility in the eye of the hurricane that was known as the Third Reich. Angus adjusted his collar, turning it up, to keep the snow from falling on the back of his neck and stepped out from under the awning of the shop.   
  
He walked purposely down the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark coat, eyes slightly downcast. No one gave him so much as a second glance. He looked like an everyday German shopkeeper who was on his way home for the evening. But Angus wasn't an everyday German shopkeeper. Angus Marsden was a spy.  
  
One of the single most dangerous weapons against the Nazi's was the operation of the Underground, a network of brave, unselfish individuals whose common goal was to seek out any and all information that would help the Allies in the fight against Hitler. The Underground was a secret army that collected information quietly, sabotaged whatever they could, and acted as the eyes and ears during the preplanning stages of most Allied bombing raids. Angus Marsden headed up a small band of anti-Nazi Germans in the heart of Berlin. They lived by the edge of the sword in a city blanketed by swastikas and patrolled by faceless, heartless men in black uniforms known the world over simply as, The Gestapo.   
  
In the eleven years since Hitler came to power and especially in the last five years, since ordering German tanks to roll into Poland, Marsden had come to hate everything he saw in his native Berlin. The radio conveyed all of Hitler's tirades, played music that no one could dance to and had announcers telling the population Germany was winning the war. And the red and black flags with the swastika waved in the breeze from nearly every building, oblivious to the hatred and lies that had stained the city and country.   
  
The only thing that gave Marsden any joy or hope, was knowing that the Nazi's were loosing. Badly. Although he cried for his country, he knew that loosing the war was the only way to end the nightmare. Germany would rise again someday, stronger and a better place to live. Maybe he wouldn't be around to see it, but he believed it would happen.  
  
Angus walked for a block until he came to a pub. He went inside the already crowded establishment, nodding and smiling at familiar faces. German folk music struggled to be heard above the din of conversations. A table full of German officers laughed and drank, making them the most boisterous patrons in the establishment. Other officers were seated with civilians, mostly young women. Angus noted that most of the officers were of the Wehrmacht and the Luftwaffe. He was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the daunting black uniform of a Gestapo officer caught his eye.  
  
As daunting as the uniform may have been, the man wearing it was not. Angus watched the man drink his beer and then laugh with the others he was seated with. The beer stein went down on the table with a _clunk_ and the Gestapo officer pointed his finger at one of his companions to emphasize his point as he continued to laugh.   
  
_ Keep laughing and drinking_, Angus thought bitterly. _You will have little to be laughing and drinking about soon enough..._  
  
Angus headed toward the bar and was greeted by the bartender.   
  
"Is it that time?"   
  
Angus nodded to the cryptic question. "That it is."  
  
The bartender fixed a shot of scotch and placed it before Angus. As Angus took a drink, the bartender spoke. "Gentleman by the front window was looking for you earlier."  
  
Angus turned to look. A well dressed man sat alone at the table reading a newspaper. Angus noted by the headline on the front that it was the paper from the day before. That was his clue that this was the contact he was to meet with. He turned back to the bartender and nodded. "I was expecting him."  
  
The bartender nodded. Angus turned and walked over to the table. He removed his hat and sat down. The other man didn't look up from his paper.   
  
Angus studied the man for a moment before speaking. "There's not enough ice on the Rhein."  
  
The paper rustled and was gently laid upon the table. The man looked at Angus. "It is too dangerous to cross anyway," he replied.   
  
"Herr Weisburg," Angus said.   
  
The man nodded. "Herr Marsden, I thank you for meeting with me."  
  
Marsden placed his hat on the table near Weisburg's newspaper. "Your message indicated you had sensitive information?"  
  
Weisburg nodded. "Troop movements. Information that may help the Allies to end the war sooner than they think." Weisburg looked around the pub at the happy-go-lucky German officers. "I cannot discuss it here, however. There are too many...ears that may hear."  
  
Angus nodded. "Of course." He picked up his hat. "I figured this would be too public. I have the others waiting at a place where we can discuss this." Angus stood up and Weisburg followed. The newspaper was left behind.  
  
Marsden led Weisburg through the snow filled streets of Berlin, down an alley, behind a building and down a narrow, dimly lit stairwell. Waiting for them were four men, one of whom hurriedly closed the door once Marsden and Weisburg were inside the small room.   
  
"Were you followed?"  
  
"No," Marsden replied.  
  
The man nodded and came to the middle of the room with the others to meet Weisburg who looked at Marsden with a smile.  
"You run a small, efficient group here, Herr Marsden."  
  
Marsden smiled. "I have learned that with running an intelligence unit out of Berlin, less is more."  
  
Weisburg smiled. He unbuttoned his coat casually and to the shock of The Underground members removed a Gestapo issued Luger, with silencer, a split second later. "But it isn't enough, Herr Marsden."  
  
It took Marsden a moment to realize something had gone wrong. "What--what is this??" he stammered, staring at the gun.  
  
"I am Lt. Weisburg of the Gestapo--"  
  
Upon hearing the word Gestapo the room suddenly came alive with action. Two of Marsden's men lunged toward Weisburg and the Lieutenant turned the Luger towards one taking the man down. The second man grabbed Weisburg and tried to throw him bodily to the floor. Weisburg fought off the man, keeping a tight grip on his gun and made no hesitation to use it. Marsden hadn't even realized his men had been shot until he saw the string of smoke from Weisburg's gun. The other two men just stood frozen, looking down at their confederates who made no movement on the floor.   
  
Weisburg turned the gun toward Marsden. "Unless you want your wife and children to suffer the same fate, Herr Marsden, I suggest you cooperate."  
  
"My wife--"  
  
"Is being held, along with your children. If you choose not to cooperate, I make no guarantees as to what will...or will not... happen to her."  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
"Don't you? Call her."  
  
Marsden hesitated. Although he understood the danger of his work, as did his family, he always took steps to keep them as safe as possible. But now, despite every possible step he could have taken to prevent this, something had gone terribly wrong. His wife and young children were possibly being held by the Gestapo. Maybe they were already dead. If that were the case, and if Weisburg wanted to take Marsden out, the Gestapo officer would be taking the same trip.  
  
"Call her, Herr Marsden."  
  
Slowly, Angus turned toward the telephone. Keeping an eye on the Gestapo agent, he dialed the number. It rang, more times than Angus liked. When it stopped it wasn't his wife who answered. It was a man's voice. Gruff. Clipped. Gestapo.  
  
"Let me speak to Gisela."  
  
Muffled voices. The man gave instructions of some kind before turning the phone over to Gisela.  
  
"Angus?"  
  
"Gisela, are you okay?"  
  
A voice in the background, commanding, reminding.   
  
"I am okay, Angus. The children are okay." The phone was suddenly taken away from Gisela.   
  
"And they will remain so, as long as you do as you are told," the man said.  
  
"Now listen here--"  
  
"Herr Marsden, there is nothing you can say that will change the situation." There was a soft sinister chuckle. "_Heil Hitler..._" The phone went dead.  
  
Marsden looked at the receiver and then slammed it down. He glared at Weisburg.  
  
"Do we have an understanding, Herr Marsden?"  
  
Angus looked at his remaining men. They nodded slightly. They had no choice. Their own deaths to prevent the Gestapo from doing whatever it had planned was a consequence they were willing to accept. But for innocents, especially Marsden's children, to be killed, they would not defy the Gestapo even though no true promise of their safety had been made.   
  
"All right," Marsden said. "What is it The Gestapo wants?"  
  
Weisburg smiled. "Simple." He removed a paper from his coat and handed it to Marsden. "Give this information to your contacts in London."  
  
Angus read the sheet and then looked at Weisburg, beyond perplexed. "All _this_," he said, glancing at his fallen comrades, "to tarnish a Royal Air Force pilot?"  
  
Weisburg smirked. "All _this_ to bring an end to The Underground, Herr Marsden." 

  
**Dusseldorf, Germany  
Gestapo Headquarters  
January 26, 1944**

Major Wolfgang Hochstetter sat at his desk in his cramped office, hunched over paper work. He hated paper work more or less because it ended up in an unorganized disarray upon his desk. He had no secretary and was not always fortunate to get one of the rottenfuhrers (corporals) to type up his reports for him, if and when he decided to bother with typing them up. The tightening of the budget as a result of the war left personnel and equipment scarce commodities. One of the last functioning typewriters in the building had and 'e' and a 'b' that didn't always work and an ink ribbon that was nearly to the point of non existent when a letter struck the paper. Many of the officers had resorted to hand writing their final reports, figuring somebody would have about as much trouble deciphering their hand writing as the faint letters on a typed page.  
  
Despite the dire working conditions, Hochstetter didn't mind. Happily he paused, rereading what he had written so far of his preliminary report. He smoothed a finger over his thin mustache, his eyes permanently narrowed in the expression of suspicion, a look he placed upon everything and anything he came into contact with on a daily basis. Behind his dark eyes of suspicion, however, was a touch of elation. When he finished reading, he glanced over at the clock on the wall. He was waiting impatiently for the phone to ring. The completion of his report and further work on this assignment rested on the news that would come with that call.  
  
He glanced at the phone, partially buried by a few stray pieces of paper. He grabbed them up, found they were previous drafts of his report and proceeded to deposit them into the waste basket. With a restless sigh, the Major stood up and paced over to the frosty window and looked out on the town of Dusseldorf. The previous night's storm left had nearly four inches of snow on the ground, blanketing the town in soft white purity, with the sky threatening to deliver more. Stray flurries began to pass by the window and the horizon was as gray as the hull of a battleship. Hochstetter looked down to the street below, noting the black staff cars lined up along the curb, their small red and black flags barely moving with the wisp of the breeze.  
  
Just below him, the Nazi symbol began to lift but the wind wasn't strong enough to completely unfurl the Swastika out. The red flag was a harsh contrast to the black, gray and white of the town, but it reminded Hochstetter of his current assignment and a small smile crept across his face. For the past two years, he had had suspicions about a certain faction of the Allied Underground operating in Hamelburg. Finding a file that had documentation confirming his suspicions was a god send. It was unfortunate that the file had originally been put together for the sole purpose of blackmail, instead of attempting to disable this faction. Apparently the diamonds Major Hegel received, which turned out to be fake, were worth more to him than the honor and glory of the Fatherland. Hochstetter didn't really care about Hegel's obvious greed. He had collected and documented enough information that if used properly, could put an end to the entire Allied Underground operation. And Hochstetter would receive the honor and glory of the Fatherland.   
  
He was nearly giddy about it. His commanders jumped at the news, immediately suggesting a full scale raid. But Hochstetter disagreed and shared an alternate plan, one he felt would be more successful. And more fun to watch as the Underground scrambled under the crush of the Gestapo and all of Germany.  
  
His commanders were skeptical, but agreed to let Hochstetter initiate the first phase of the plan. Now, however, he had to wait for the phone to ring before initiating the next phase.  
  
He turned away from the window and stepped back toward his desk. It was still cluttered and the phone had not yet rung. He thought momentarily that maybe the first part had not been successful, that his man in Berlin didn't get in. Although there was no greater risk involved in this element of the plan, the entire operation depended on it's success. If his man in Berlin failed, there was no way to implement the rest of it and with each passing moment that the phone didn't ring, a full fledged raid was looking like the better option.  
  
Hochstetter sighed impatiently and stepped back behind his desk, pulling the black jacket of his uniform straight before sitting down. He picked up his pen and began to read his report again.  
  
The phone rang. The Major's heart jumped and he had to stop himself from answering to eagerly. A second and a third ring of the phone gave him a moment to keep calm.  
  
"Hochstetter speaking, Heil Hitler." As he listened he stared at the portrait of the Furhrer on the wall across the office. He dropped his gaze and smirked.   
  
"Excellent," the Major said. "Continue as planned. Make sure that all information is filtered through the proper channels. Ja. Heil Hitler..."  
  
Hochstetter hung up the phone with a victorious smile. He looked down at his report, which would now be complete. But there was still much to do...

**Stalag 13, Barracks #2  
January 29th, 1944**

Down in the cold and damp tunnel that ran underneath the barracks of Stalag 13, Sgt. James Kinchole finished writing the message down and then closed the radio communication channel with London. He turned toward the closest oil lamp and reread the message a few times, finding it hard to believe. He had had London repeat it three times just to make sure that what his ears were hearing was correct. Some how it just didn't seem possible.   
  
He sighed and put the microphone and ear piece down. He folded the note and tucked it into the pocket of his faded green army jacket. The Colonel would have to be briefed immediately. Despite Kinch's disbelief at the message, it was to be taken seriously nonetheless.   
  
Up in the barracks, the bottom bunk, that hid the entrance to the emergency tunnel suddenly clattered open, drawing the attention of the prisoners seated at the wooden table near by away from their poker cards. The mattress lifted up and the bottom slats of the bed went down into the tunnel entrance becoming a ladder.  
  
Senior POW officer Colonel Robert Hogan, US Army Air Corps, stood up from the table. "What is it, Kinch?" he asked as his Sergeant emerged from the tunnel.   
  
"Trouble," the sergeant replied. He climbed out, slapped the top bunk which brought the slats back up and returned the mattress to it's original position. He handed the folded paper to Hogan. "Message from London."  
  
Hogan took the paper and read the short message: _Recent information from Berlin is suggesting that RAF Corporal Peter Newkirk is suspected of treason against the Allies. This matter is to be dealt with accordingly._  
  
Hogan stared at the message and then looked at Kinch, dumbfounded. "Are they serious?"   
  
"I had them repeat it several times."  
  
"What is it, Colonel?" Army Air Corps. Sgt. Andrew Carter asked. Other prisoners began to gather around, detecting something was up.  
  
Hogan folded the paper. "It's exactly what Kinch said. Trouble."  
  
"Is it orders for a mission, sir?" French Army Corporal Louis Lebeau asked.   
  
Hogan shook his head. "Not quite." He glanced at Kinch. "We'll wait until Newkirk's back before we discuss this further."   
  
Kinch nodded. "Yes sir."  
  
Hogan headed toward his quarters, carefully tucking the message into the pocket of his brown leather bomber jacket. _They gotta be wrong..._

  
**Hamelburg, Germany  
January 29, 1944**

Meanwhile, Royal Air Force Corporal Peter Newkirk, was sitting in a beer hall in Hamelburg dressed as a Luftwaffe pilot of the same rank. He sat alone, staring either out the window at the setting sun reflecting in the snow or down at his half empty beer stein. Occasionally he glanced up to see Serilda, the German-American brown haired waitress who had served him, as she had done several times before. Serilda was an Underground contact and they had been exchanging information for close to three months now. If anybody had noticed them, they would think they were no more than lovers having a rendezvous; a chance to see one another in the midst of war knowing perhaps they would never see each other again.   
  
In the last week or so, Peter had sometimes felt that way. He was not immune to her attractiveness. She was easy on the eyes, her looks neither plain nor exotic. Her eyes were a dark hazel color, almost blue but not quite. He liked to just sit and watch her. When she spoke, he listened. Her German was flawless, but when she spoke English he liked it all the better. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to look at him the same way.   
  
Serilda took her assignment in the Underground very seriously. She put on a good show, standing close to him, touching his hand, looking at him with that look that drove him crazy, usually all the while she was slipping a piece of paper with instructions on it into the pocket of his Luftwaffe uniform. She treated him like a good friend when they parted ways, but Peter couldn't find a way to curb the ache in his heart for her.  
  
He had debated about telling her how he felt, but was sure that would have been fruitless. He knew she was resolute about her position in the Underground. To her, things were too important, too serious, too dangerous to let something like love get in the way. There was a war going on after all. And although an American by birth, she was of German decent and felt a sense of patriotism in the call to obliterate the Nazi influence from Germany.   
  
So Peter's heart still ached and no matter what, he couldn't convince himself to let go of his feelings for her. He took comfort in being near her and was miserable when he got back to camp. It just wasn't meant to be.  
  
He sighed because of his predicament and looked back into his half empty beer stein. A few moments later, Serilda was sitting across from him.   
  
"Hallo, meine Liebe," she said with a smile. _Hello, my love_.  
  
Peter melted, his heart ache lifted and he gave a lazy smile. "Hallo."  
  
"Ich habe vermißt dich." _I have missed you. _  
  
"Dich haben keine Idee." _You have no idea. _  
  
She smiled at him and then lowered her voice. "I'm afraid I don't have anything new to pass along. The two divisions are still thirty miles outside of Essen. They haven't moved for three days and are making no indication as to when they will."  
  
Peter nodded. "London thinks the Germans are trying to set up a diversion. Have the Allies focus on what these two divisions are up to while somewhere else the Germans make some kind of sneak attack."  
  
Serilda nodded and looked around the Haufbrau. "I did want to ask you about something else though."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"A friend of mine here, her fiancé is with Angus Marsden's group in Berlin. She has not heard from him for several days; she was supposed to meet with him in Munich but he never showed. She tried to contact Berlin but received no answer. I have heard nothing about Berlin from my contacts, has Colonel Hogan heard anything that you know of?"  
  
Peter thought for a moment and then shook his head. "No...the last contact we had with Berlin was about six months ago I believe."  
  
Serilda sighed. "She's terribly upset. I don't know what to do, I don't know what to tell her. I also don't understand why Angus would ignore her message. It's not like him."  
  
"Well, I'll let the Colonel know when I get back to camp. We can contact London and see if they know of anything."  
Serilda smiled. "I would appreciate that very much, Peter, thank you."  
  
"Anything for you, my luv." He took her hand and softly kissed it.  
  
"Charmer," she said, amused.   
  
He grinned at her as she left the table but the heartache soon returned. 

**  
Stalag 13, Barracks #2  
January 29, 1944**

When Newkirk arrived in the emergency tunnel, he was greeted by an anxious Sergeant Carter.  
  
"It's about time you got back," he said.  
  
"What's the matter?" Newkirk asked, removing his hat and shaking the light snow off his sleeves.  
  
"The Colonel's got a message from London and won't tell any of us what it said until you got back. The suspense is killing me! The Colonel's never done that before."  
  
Newkirk unbuttoned his over coat. "Maybe he doesn't feel like repeatin' himself this time."  


"I think it's something big. Real big. Like, maybe we can all be allowed to escape and go home."  
  
"He give any indication as to that?"  
  
Carter shook his head. "No. The only thing he said was 'it's trouble.'"  
  
Newkirk rolled his eyes. "That's not very encouraging, Andrew."  
  
"Well, it's gotta be something big!"  
  
"Well give me a minute to get out of this bloody Kraut uniform and I'll be right there."  
  
Carter nodded and headed toward the ladder. Newkirk retrieved his RAF uniform, made a quick change and then went up the ladder to the barracks where everyone was waiting for him. Colonel Hogan made eye contact and then directed Newkirk and the heroes to his quarters. Whatever it was, Peter wanted to prepare himself for it. He grabbed a cigarette on his way.  
  
Once everyone was in his quarters, Hogan closed the door. He then turned to face Newkirk and removed the folded paper from the pocket of his bomber jacket.   
  
"This message came from London a little while ago." He held it out to the Englishman.  
  
Newkirk looked at it and then moved his cigarette from between his fingers to his lips. He took the paper, unfolded it and read it. The cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth. He grabbed at it and looked up at Hogan his eyes flashing an immediate proclamation of innocence and silently asking the question, _you don't believe this do you?_  
  
"Kinch had them repeat it," Hogan said. "More than once to make sure."  
  
Newkirk suddenly wasn't feeling so great. It wasn't true! How could they accuse him of treason?? _How??_  
  
"Peter, what does it say??" LeBeau asked. He and Carter were about ready to go into fits not knowing what was going on.  
  
"I'm being accused of treason," Newkirk replied softly, but with ire.  
  
"_What?!_" LeBeau said.  
  
"Colonel, that can't be true," Carter added.  
  
"I don't believe it is true, Carter," Hogan said. "I don't believe it one bit." He paused, looking at Newkirk. "But apparently London does."  
  
"Well it's wrong!" Newkirk said. He looked at the message again, momentarily stepping away from the Colonel. "What the bloody hell is this information from Berlin? Since when did the underground in Berlin start keeping tabs on me when they can't even keep tabs on their own??" He turned back to Hogan.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hogan asked.  
  
"In town, Serilda asked me if we heard anything about the outfit in Berlin. One of her friend's fiancé is with the Underground there and apparently has disappeared. The friend tried to contact the group but got no response."  
  
Hogan paused in thought. "An Underground agent's disappeared?"  
  
Newkirk nodded. "Been missing for a few days, apparently."  
  
Hogan narrowed his eyes. "London hasn't said anything about that. Kinch?" He looked to his radio man.  
  
The sergeant shook his head. "Haven't heard anything to suggest there's a problem anywhere."  
  
"Maybe we should ask them?" Carter suggested.  
  
Hogan paused in thought. "Maybe we should. We've got a missing Underground agent, an Underground group in Berlin that's not saying anything about it and a treason charged based on information from Berlin. What does that tell us?"  
  
"There's something bloody wrong in Berlin! Besides the current state o' German affairs," Newkirk said.   
  
"You think something's gone wrong with the group in Berlin, Colonel?" Kinch asked.  
  
"You bet I do. Angus Marsden runs that outfit?"  
  
Kinch nodded. "Has for three years. Gets good intelligence and knows his stuff."  
  
"I hate to think the Gestapo some how figured what he was up to," Hogan said. "Having a contact in Berlin has been risky enough. Trying to set up a new one will be damn near impossible."  
  
"Serilda once said that Marsden purposely cut down on the number of people he had in Berlin in order to avoid any suspicion," Newkirk said.  
  
"How does Serilda know him?" Hogan asked.  
  
"She worked in Berlin when she first became part of the Underground. She then moved to Hamelburg a few months after."  
  
Hogan grinned. "You have her entire life story don't you?"   
  
Newkirk shrugged. "Parts of it."  
  
"Why'd she move to Hamelburg?" Kinch asked.  
  
"Her family roots are in Hamelburg."  
  
Hogan smirked. "But Newkirk only knows parts of her life story."  
  
"Should we try to contact Marsden first? Or London?" Kinch asked.  
  
"Marsden," Hogan said. "Use the SOS code, find out if he's in trouble or not."  
  
Kinch nodded and headed for the tunnel. 

***  
  
After a half hour that seemed to drag on forever, Kinch emerged from the tunnel. Newkirk leapt up from the table but all Kinch could provide was a shake of his head.  
  
"I didn't get a response," he said.  
  
"Nothing?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Not even static. I don't even know if they are receiving our signal or not."  
  
Hogan sighed. "They have to be getting our signal." If there wasn't something wrong before, there was definitely something wrong now. "Contact London. Tell them I want to know what this evidence is they've got against Newkirk and also let them know we couldn't get through to Berlin."  
  
Kinch nodded. "Yes sir."

*** 

The evidence the Colonel received back was circumstantial at best. In the privacy of his quarters, the Colonel reviewed the information. Berlin was claiming that Peter Newkirk was being spoken of by local German officials as looking to defect and share with the Germans any and all information he had of the Allies with them. Allegedly contact had been made. By what means, the report didn't say, nor did it say when or what coveted information it was that Peter, officially a POW, was going to share.  
  
Hogan was both concerned and annoyed at the same time. Concerned at how this "information" came about and annoyed that London was taking it as the gospel, offering no chance for Peter to prove his innocence.   
  
_ Either that or they figure we CAN'T prove his innocence._ The use of a military court procedure was out of the question, given their covert operation and the fact they were already all prisoners of war. To send Peter back to London to face a formal court martial procedure was risking exposure of the entire operation. London obviously was not willing to take that chance. Therefore, as the commanding officer, Colonel Hogan was to declare Peter guilty and somehow sentence him, without disrupting things too much.  
  
_ That's rich, I'm supposed to sentence a man who's already a prisoner!_  
  
And innocent. The evidence that had been presented didn't prove anything, certainly not guilt. Hogan knew a railroad job when he saw it and Peter was clearly being railroaded by somebody. The evidence only proved that something, somewhere was seriously wrong but Hogan just wished it would start making sense. The more pieces to the puzzle he got, the less he could figure out what the picture was supposed to look like.  
  
Hogan glanced over to the closed door of his quarters. He knew standing outside waiting was Newkirk, more than anxious to know what the evidence against him was. Hogan had agreed to show it to him, once he had reviewed it himself. Hogan also decided that even though London was not allowing them the chance to disprove the charges, they were going to try to disprove them anyway.   
  
He just wasn't sure how.   
  
The Colonel stood up from his desk and went to the door. He opened it, finding Newkirk standing right there as he had expected, only with his back to the door, as if he had been pacing. The RAF Corporal had his hat in hand and turned to face the Colonel.  
  
Hogan nodded. "Come on in."  
  
"Thank you, sir." Newkirk stepped into the quarters and Hogan closed the door. He stepped over to the table and picked up the message Kinch had transcribed that contained the "evidence." He handed the papers to Newkirk, letting the Corporal read them for himself, as they were, without giving comment until he was finished.  
  
"Reads like a nice tabloid story doesn't it Colonel?"  
  
Hogan grinned. "Yeah it does."  
  
Newkirk handed the papers back. "What are we going to do about it?"  
  
"Well, London's not giving us permission to investigate this too much. You saw the first message they sent; this is to be 'dealt with accordingly.' Meaning I'm supposed to put you in a corner somewhere and maybe, when the war's over, we can figure out what the heck happened."  
  
"But you're not?"  
  
Hogan shook his head. "No. Somebody's railroading you, and I want to find out why. I want to find out why Berlin submitted this so-called evidence and why it is we can't get through to them to ask a few questions."  
  
Peter was relieved and he looked at Hogan seriously. "How are we going to do that?"  
  
Hogan paused. "I haven't figured that part out yet. One of us may have to go to Berlin."  
  
Before the two pilots could contemplate the matter further there was a knock on the door and Lebeau poked his head in.  
  
"_Mon Colonel_, Kinch is on the radio. It's Marsden."  
  
Hogan and Newkirk followed Lebeau out of the quarters and to the tunnel entrance with haste. When they got down in the tunnel, Kinch was finishing up the message. He handed the note pad to Hogan before removing his headphones. "He's in trouble, Colonel."  
  
"Hello my Golden child," Hogan read the message. "I am sorry I missed your birthday party, I was unable to travel in the storm. Your mother tells me you received your present. I'm sorry I could not be there in person when you got it, but I'm sure you were very surprised by it."  
  
"There's the understatement of the war," Newkirk interjected.  
  
Hogan continued. "I will not be able to come down next week due to unforeseen circumstances at the shop. But I hope to see you again. Soon. Uncle Angus."  
  
There was a pause as Hogan decoded the crucial elements of the message. "Unable to travel in the storm....that means the Gestapo's in there."  
  
"And those 'unforeseen circumstances' are preventing him from contacting London and telling them what's really going on," Kinch added.   
  
Hogan nodded. "But he's asking for us to help. Whatever the Gestapo's holding on him, it's important enough to him that he won't risk a distress call to London."  
  
"But he risked one to us," Kinch said.  
  
"He knows that we know the treason charge is false. If he sends a distress call to London, they might cut him off in which case the Gestapo won't like that and Marsden might lose whatever it is the Gestapo's holding against him."  
  
"Like his family," Newkirk said.  
  
"Exactly. We need to get a plan together and fast. The sooner we can get Marsden out of this predicament the less time the Gestapo has to flood more false information to London and the rest of the Allies. Also the sooner we prove that treason charge is a load of baloney."  
  
"Perhaps _mon Colonel_," LeBeau said, "we should talk to Serilda. She knows Marsden and his operation, it might help us try to figure out how we should approach this situation."  
  
Hogan nodded. "That's what I was thinking." Hogan turned to his radio man. "Kinch, send a message to Serilda to meet with us here tomorrow night after roll call so we can have a little discussion about Angus Marsden."  
  
"Right."  
  
Hogan turned to Newkirk. "You can escort her in."  
  
Newkirk grinned. "I'd be honored."

**Hamelburg, Germany  
January 30, 1944**

"Gute Nacht, Serilda," Bruno, the Büfettier (bartender) said as he locked the front door of the Haufbrau.   
  
"Gute Nacht." Serilda smiled and turned in the direction of her apartment which was only a few blocks away. When she got there, her friend Anjte, the one who's fiancé was with the Underground in Berlin, was waiting.  
  
The young woman bounded off the step she had been sitting on. "Serilda."  
  
"Anjte, what is it?"  
  
"Did you tell them? The men at Stalag 13, did you tell them?"  
  
"Yes, I did. I've heard nothing as of yet but I am to meet with Colonel Hogan tonight."  
  
Anjte sighed. "I'm so scared. Serilda, I fear he is dead and no one will ever know. The Gestapo probably got him and then they're going to come to find me next."  
  
"The Gestapo is not going to come to find you."  
  
"How do you know?? They have ways! They will think I am a spy too! I told Hagen not to take part in it. Oh Serilda what am I going to do?!?"  
  
"Will you calm down? Listen, why don't you come inside for a minute, get a hold of yourself." Serilda put a comforting hand on the young woman's shoulder.  
  
"O-okay..." Anjte went up the steps ahead of Serilda. They disappeared inside the building. Upon entering Serilda's apartment, they removed their coats and Serilda headed toward the kitchen.   
  
"I'll make some tea," she said.  
  
"Okay." Anjte sat down and sighed. She looked around the scarcely decorated apartment for a moment. There were no pictures of family anywhere to be seen. There didn't seem to be any little mementos or trinkets either. Anjte was, of course, use to this. She knew of Serilda being in the Underground. The apartment wasn't "personalized" because photographs and trinkets held clues to one's true identity. Also, if Serilda had to leave suddenly there would be no mourning of things left behind.   
  
"Don't you ever worry about that, Serilda?"  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Being caught by the Gestapo?"  
  
"Everyday." Serilda chuckled. "But I am only a waitress, what would they want with me?"  
  
Anjte admired her friend's bravery. She wished she had the kind of guts Serilda had. Maybe then she wouldn't be so scared about Hagan's disappearance.   
  
"When do you have to go to the camp?"  
  
"Soon." Serilda came out of the kitchen carrying a tray with two cups of tea on it. "Only I'm not going to the camp. Someone is coming to pick me up and take me there."  
  
"Who will take you there?"  
  
"One of the prisoners."  
  
"One of the prisoners?!?"  
  
Serilda laughed. "Oh they're in and out of there all the time with the Kommandant none the wiser."  
  
Anjte raised her hands and waved them in the air. "I don't want to hear this. I don't want to hear this. The Gestapo will torture it out of me."  
  
Serilda shook her head and took a sip of her tea.   
  
Anjte sipped at hers and then placed the cup back down. "Is he attractive? The prisoner who will be picking you up?"  
  
"I thought you didn't want to hear this?"  
  
"Well, is he?"  
  
"He is nice looking, yes."  
  
Anjte smiled. "American? Frenchman?"  
  
"English."  
  
"Oooh..."   
  
"The American officer is attractive as well."  
  
"No wonder you do not fear the Gestapo. You can be saved by a dashing Allied soldier."  
  
Serilda smiled. "The Gestapo will not be coming after you, Anjte. More than likely they do not know that you are Hagan's fiancé As any good Underground agent he kept personal details closely guarded. No pictures or letters from anyone. They don't know who you are. "  
  
Anjte looked down at her tea cup. "That is probably why I don't know where he is. He is dead and they don't know who to tell." She suddenly buried her face in her hand.  
  
Serilda put an arm over Anjte's shoulders. Nothing Serilda could say would offer much comfort so she said nothing. She figured Hagan was already dead and Anjte was hanging on to very little hope that he would be found alive.   
  
A moment later a knock softly announced a visitor at the door. "Fraulein Serilda?"  
  
Anjte looked up in a shot. "Who is that?"  
  
Serilda smiled. "I believe my escort is here." She stood up and went to the door, pausing a moment to look through the peep hole. She turned back to Anjte and nodded. Anjte stood up as Serilda opened the door.  
  
Peter stood there in the Luftwaffe uniform and removed his hat, smiling at Serilda. He glanced at Anjte and looked at Serilda in question. "Es tut mir leid (I apologize). I did not know you had company."  
  
"It's okay. I want you to meet Anjte. Come in." Serilda closed the door behind Peter once he was in the room. "This is the girl I was telling you about the other night. Anjte, this is the Englishman."  
  
Peter looked at Anjte and grinned. "Peter Newkirk at your service." He bowed slightly.  


Anjte smiled shyly. "You are a convincing German."  


He winked at her. "Let's not let that get around, eh?" He took a moment to remove his black leather gloves. "It is your fiancé is with the Underground in Berlin?"  


Anjte stepped toward him. "Yes. Have you heard anything? Do you know where he is?"  


He shook his head. "We don't know where he is, but we think there is something wrong in Berlin." He looked at Serilda. "That's why the Colonel wants to see you."  


"What do you think is wrong??" Anjte asked, concerned.  


"We're not sure," Peter said. Telling her that the Gestapo might be involved was premature. Plus there was no need to upset her anymore than she already was. "There's some strange things happening along with your fiancés disappearance that has the Colonel concerned." Peter looked at his watch. "Serilda, we don't have much time."  


Serilda nodded. "Just let me get my coat." She picked her coat up from the couch and slipped it on. Anjte did the same. Peter then escorted the two ladies out of the apartment.   


"Vorsicht, Serilda," Anjte said when they were on the street. _Be careful._   


"I will, Anjte. I will talk to you tomorrow okay?"   


Anjte nodded and watched them disappear into the dark of the night. She pulled her coat tighter around her, fought to keep her fear in check and walked toward home.

**Stalag 13, Barracks #2  
January 30, 1944**

  
Once Peter and Serilda returned, the heroes gathered in the emergency tunnel with them. Carter was the last one off the ladder.   


"All clear sir," he said.  


Hogan nodded and looked at Serilda, who was seated between Newkirk, still dressed in the Luftwaffe uniform, and LeBeau. 

"How well do you know Angus Marsden?"  


"I served with him when I first joined the Underground. I've known him well over three years."  


"Does his lack of response to your friend's inquiry about her fiancé seem at all strange to you?"  


"It is not like him, Colonel. If something happened to Hagan, Angus would have made sure that my friend, Anjte, was the first to know about it."  


Hogan nodded. "At the time you were telling Newkirk here about your friend, we got a message from London issuing a treason charge against him. Supposedly based on information from Angus Marsden in Berlin."  


Serilda blinked. "Colonel, that's absurd!"  


"My feelings exactly," Newkirk said.   


"Something is terribly wrong then. Is London not aware that one of Angus's men is missing?"  


"They have made no indication to us that they are, but Marsden sent a coded SOS call to us. The Gestapo's in there and I've the feeling that Marsden can't or won't risk an SOS call to London."  


"He has a wife and young children," Serilda said. "If the Gestapo is holding them, they can force Angus to their command. Otherwise, he would never let the Gestapo go so far as to feed false information to London." She paused and drew in a troubled breath. "I suspect that Hagen and the others were killed when the Gestapo took over."  


There was a respectful pause. "Which raises the next question," Hogan said softly. "What are they up to and why?"  


"Yeah," Carter said. "And why did they pick Newkirk for this false treason charge?"   


"My charming personality, I'm sure," Peter replied dryly, taking a drag of his cigarette.   


"Got a blue print of how we're to figure that all out?" Kinch asked.  


"Somebody's going to have to go to Berlin," Hogan said, "and try to make contact with Marsden, find out where his family is being held and get them out."  


"I know where his family lives," Serilda said. "I know where the clock shop is located too. Perhaps, I should go."  


"Alone?" Newkirk said suddenly. "Colonel--"  


Hogan held a hand up. "Perhaps you should but I'm not so sure you should travel alone. Is there anyone in the Underground who could accompany you?"  


"I don't think so. With the 4th SS Division camped outside of Essen we need all the people we have to keep an eye on them and their movements."  


"Colonel, I volunteer to go with her," Newkirk said. The Englishman wasn't joking around either. Usually put Newkirk with a pretty girl and he was willing to go anywhere. But this was different and the seriousness in which Peter announced his voluntary action wasn't lost on the Colonel.  


Hogan looked around at the others. "Does anyone besides Newkirk here want to volunteer for this? Keeping in mind that if you're caught by the Gestapo any number of things could happen, not the least of which is you could be killed and tortured. In that order." Hogan more or less said it to try to discourage Peter from wanting to go. He should have known better that the others wouldn't be immediately interested either. No one said a word.  


"Lebeau?"  


"I have laundry duty this week."  


"Carter?"  


"And miss the smuggled in Betty Grable picture?"  


"Kinch?"  


"Somebody has to man the radio."  


"I still volunteer, Colonel."  


This wasn't exactly what Hogan wanted. Any other time he would have agreed to let Newkirk go, but with a treason charge hanging in the balance, sending the RAF pilot on this mission upped the stakes nearly two fold. London saw the charge as true, therefore Newkirk was not supposed to be taking part in any further operations. If Peter were to get caught, serious reprimands would follow, assuming Hogan and the others managed to get out before the entire lid was blown off their operation. On the other hand, Hogan and the others knew the charge was false, and to prove so, they needed Marsden to tell London himself, but for him to tell London what they knew was going on, was to risk the lives of Marsden's family.  


Hogan sighed and looked at Serilda. "I'm not so sure Newkirk should be going with you," he said.  


Serilda glanced at Peter and then looked back at the Colonel. She knew the treason charge alone was preventing Hogan from giving the go ahead. She understood this and figured she would be making the trip alone, no matter what.  


"Very well, Colonel. But for the sake of my friend, Anjte and for the ridiculous charge of treason against Peter, I am going to Berlin." She stood up to leave.  


"You would prefer to have Newkirk go with you?"  


Serilda stopped and turned to Hogan. "Given a choice, yes. I'm more comfortable with Peter. I trust him."  


Hogan made note of this. "How soon will you be leaving for Berlin?"  


"I would like to leave as soon as possible. Probably within the next 24 hours."  


The Colonel nodded. "We'll contact you before that 24 hours is up."  


"Thank you, Colonel."  


"Sir--" Newkirk started.  


"Newkirk, see that she gets back to town okay." Hogan gave the Corporal a look that basically said, _we'll discuss this later_.  


"Right, sir." Peter stood up and came up beside Serilda. Quietly they headed toward the exit of the tunnel that would take them outside the wire.

  
** Hamelburg, Germany  
January 30, 1944**

Peter parked the 'borrowed' staff car down the street and walked with Serilda back to her apartment. When they reached the stairway, she stopped and turned to him.  


"I meant what I said back at camp, about wanting you to come with me," she said. "But if Colonel Hogan does not allow you to accompany me I don't want you doing something ridiculous. Even if false, a charge of treason has to be taken very seriously. The Colonel has little choice."  


"It's not me I'm worried about. It's you. I don't like the idea of you going to Berlin alone."  


"There's a lot of things that happen during war that people don't like. But they must be done. I have traveled alone to Berlin before, I'm more than prepared to make the trip again." She placed a hand on his shoulder before he could speak in further protest. "Peter please. I'm going to Berlin whether the Colonel gives you permission to come with me or not."  


Newkirk sighed and nodded. "All right," he said. "Just be careful, okay?"  


She smiled at him. "I'm always careful." She looked at him for a moment, realizing it was possible she would never see him again. Peter was already thinking that himself and knowing it was too late to say anything about how he felt about her he did the only thing he could. He leaned to her and softly placed a kiss upon her lips.  


When they parted, Serilda looked up to him but he dropped his gaze. He wasn't sure he wanted to see the look in her eyes, or for her to see the look in his eyes. "Auf weidersehen, meine Liebe," he whispered, mindful that there were people walking past them. He then slowly turned and walked back to the car.   


Serilda sighed and headed up the stairs. The thought of not seeing Peter again bothered her, but she figured it would be for the better for the Colonel to not allow him to go with her. She knew what his feelings were toward her. If something were to happen to him, or her....  


She shook her head. No sense dragging out the goodbye. It was for the best that they parted the way they just had.   
She paused at the door and looked up the street watching the car disappear further into the darkness. Suddenly, she didn't want to go to Berlin alone. 

**Stalag 13, Barracks #2  
January 30, 1944**

The tunnel was empty when Peter returned. A few moments alone as he changed out of the German uniform and back into his RAF one gave him the chance to formulate an argument for going to Berlin. It was a weak argument at best. He had several reasons for going, but the Colonel had the best reason for keeping him grounded.   


Suspicion of treason.  


The idea that somebody could suspect him of treason did nothing to put him into a good mood. What bothered Peter more, was that London was accepting the charge as truth and fact, not offering any chance for it to be disproved.  


He picked up his RAF hat, gazing at the King George pin that adorned the front of it.   


_A traitor?_ he though disgustedly. He had joined the RAF to help defend his country against the Nazi aggression, he had agreed to join Colonel Hogan and his group after being shot down and brought to Stalag 13 instead of taking part in an escape back to England. He had done these things because he believed in the Allied cause. His record alone should have been enough of a defense. He'd flown a total of 17 missions, his first 9 with a Spitfire plane before being transferred to a bomber squadron, and after two years at Stalag 13 he'd taken part in enough sabotage operations to warrant a new rank. Or maybe a couple.  
He looked at the corporal stripes that adorned the arm of his uniform jacket. He decided Sargent...even Lieutenant stripes would look very nice...  


But he'd never see them, or another sabotage operation or another Spitfire plane for that matter, if headquarters wasn't convinced that the treason charge was false. He placed his hat on and straightened it. He had his reasons. Now he had to convince the Colonel to take the risk.  


He returned to the barracks where everyone was getting ready to turn in for the night. Colonel Hogan, however, sat at the table, a deck of cards in his hand. He was apparently waiting for Newkirk to return and he looked up at the Corporal. The cards were shuffled and then laid on the table in invitation for Peter to sit down.   


Newkirk did and proceeded to cut the cards. "I still want to go with her, Colonel."  


Hogan picked up the cards and shuffled them again. "I know. It's not that I'm beyond considering it, but I think you understand my predicament?"  


"Yes sir. But with all due respect, I can't sit here and wait for somebody else to find the answer. One of us has to go to Berlin, you said that yourself. I just happen to be the only one willing to go."  


Hogan dealt out a hand. "London finds out I let you go, we end up in serious trouble. Guilty or not, you don't fool around with a treason charge."  


"London doesn't have to know I've gone."  


"They will if you get caught."  


Newkirk picked up his hand and fanned the cards. He looked at Hogan with a grin. "I don't plan on getting caught."  


"I'd bet on that, Colonel," Carter spoke up.   


Hogan shot him a look. "Thank you, Sergeant." He looked back to Newkirk. "It's not that I have any doubts about that, but if something should go wrong you and I both will have a lot to answer for."  


"We need Marsden alive so he can refute the claim he made to London about my supposed treasonous activities. Can you think of any other way to do this?"  


"No. And that's what's bothering me. I can't go against a treason charge unless I have hard evidence to the contrary. And the only way to get that is to have Marsden himself tell London. And out of everybody here the only man willing to go is the one that's being accused of treason!" Hogan looked down at his cards and then at Peter's.  


"I'll take two, sir."  


The Colonel placed his hand down and dealt Peter two new cards. "Dealer takes two." Hogan selected his cards and slipped them in with the rest of his poker hand. He studied the cards for a moment and then studied the RAF pilot's expression. He suddenly looked amused. "I know why you want to go with Serilda. Because you've fallen for her!"  


"_Oui, naturellement!_" LeBeau said and grinned. "Can't blame him, Colonel."  


"Yeah, I'd go on a suicide mission to Berlin with her too!" Carter added.  


Everybody looked at him. "Why didn't you volunteer before when I asked?" Hogan asked.  


"Well...I don't want to miss the Betty Grable picture..."  


There was a collective rolling of eyes and then Peter looked at Hogan. "That has nothing to do with my going with her."  


"But you have fallen for her, right?"  


Newkirk said nothing, looking back down to his cards. His expression revealed nothing about his hand, but gave him away otherwise. Colonel Hogan saw right through it. Peter was in love with Serilda. But the brief look in the Corporal's eyes caused Hogan to pause. Yes, he did have feelings for her. Serious feelings at that. Serious enough that he'd do whatever he had to to protect her and keep her alive, knowing fully well that the love he felt for her was probably not going to be returned.   


Peter looked up at everyone staring at him. "That has nothing to do with my going with her," he reiterated.  


"Sure," Carter said.  


"None of you is being accused of treason," Newkirk said, quickly becoming irritated. "Maybe if you were, you'd understand."  


"London won't drop the treason charge unless they're proved otherwise," Kinch reminded.  


"And the only way to do that is to go to Berlin," Newkirk said, turning his gaze on Hogan. "She can't go alone. She'll be stopped at every checkpoint on the road. It's too dangerous for her." Newkirk placed his cards down. Three of a kind. Once the Colonel saw the hand he folded.   


"Colonel, I'm going on this mission whether I have your permission or not."  


Hogan looked up in a shot. "That's insubordination, Corporal."  


"Which is minor compared to treason, sir."  


Hogan sighed and held up his hand, signaling _wait a minute_. "Newkirk, you're too emotionally close to all this. With Serilda, the treason charge. I let you go on this mission you can end up making things worse for yourself."  


"I know what has to be done, Colonel. We have to find Marsden and determine what happened. We then have to get him and his family, if they're being held by the Gestapo, out of Berlin."  


"What if Marsden _let_ the Gestapo in? What do you do if you find that out?"  


Newkirk paused. "Then Marsden's group will need to be cut off from the rest of the Underground. Discredited and disbanded."  


Hogan stood up from the table and paced while he thought. Newkirk knew the risks, had the skills to pull off the mission, and understood the implications if something should go wrong. But the Colonel still hesitated. Not only because of Newkirk's feelings toward Serilda. Love could cloud a man's judgment, make him do things he shouldn't...  


_Like go on this mission to begin with!_ The Colonel stopped pacing and looked at the RAF corporal. There was something else that was bothering the Colonel, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He couldn't figure out what it was or why he had a sixth sense telling him that something was desperately wrong. All he knew was that the only way to find out was for some body to go to Berlin. And the look in Newkirk's eyes it was clear. He was going, no matter what.  


Hogan sighed. "All right," he said. "I may regret this. So you want to go on this mission. Do you have any idea how we're going to get you out of camp for a week or more without anybody noticing?"  


Newkirk didn't have an immediate answer for that. The rest of the heroes tried to think of possible ways to answer the question as well, but were suddenly stumped.  


"We can't have you escape, because Klink would turn this camp upside down. We can't have you 'disappear' because Klink would turn this came upside down. We can't even throw you in the cooler because once they realized you weren't there anymore, Klink would be turning this camp upside down."  


"Maybe we should just turn the camp upside down ourselves and leave Peter outside the front gate," Kinch joked.  


The heroes chuckled but Hogan was preoccupied with his thoughts. "What we need is to figure a way to get you out of camp with everybody knowing you were out of camp, but not being concerned by it," he said.  


"Oh sure," Carter said. "Why not just promise the moon!"  


Newkirk was quickly frustrated with this. "Might as well wish for a plague to befall the Krauts. You ain't goin' to get that anymore than the moon, or me out of camp with nobody giving a rot."  


Hogan looked up and smiled suddenly. "The Plague...."  


"We gonna create the plague?" Carter asked, recognizing the look on the Colonel's face. There was an idea brewing.  


"Not quite. Newkirk? How you been feeling lately?"  


Peter shrugged. "Oh fine. 'Bout as well as can be expected in a place like this --" He stopped suddenly and looked at Hogan, his expression breaking into a grin once he realized what the Colonel was thinking. "Um, actually now that you mention it, I've been feelin' a bit lousy in the past couple of days..."  


Hogan nodded. "We get Dr. Weinstein in Hamelburg to come here and tell Klink you have to go to the hospital for a week or so."  


"Klink will have Schultz assign a guard," Kinch reminded.  


"Who will never go into the room because the good doctor will have to put Newkirk under quarantine. Only the doctor will be allowed into the room."  


"Wow..." Carter said. He looked at Newkirk. "This plague you got contagious?"  


"Andrew..." Newkirk said, rolling his eyes.   


"Whatever it is, he'll start showing signs of illness during the morning work detail," Hogan said. "By tomorrow night he should be on his way to Berlin."  


Newkirk smiled and nodded.   


"The illness, Carter," Lebeau said, "is called _maladie de l'amour_."  


Carter paused as he translated. "Ohh," he said with a smile. "You mean love sick."  


Newkirk made a face. "Very funny..."  


Hogan grinned. "Kinch," he said turning to the radio man, "put a call in to Serilda. Tell her to stand by and we'll let her know when Newkirk's out of camp so she can meet with him."  


Kinch smiled. "Yes sir."

**Stalag 13, Work Detail  
January 31, 1944**

During the morning work detail, Newkirk started displaying the signs of his "illness." He would stop working every so often and lean on his shovel, closing his eyes for a moment as if dizzy. This prompted at most, a bark from Schultz to keep working. Peter would nod meekly and keep shoveling, but at a slower pace than the other prisoners.  
  
The rest of the heroes played up their parts. They would all notice Peter, cast concerned looks toward each other and ask him if he was okay.   


"Yeah, yeah, I'm all right..." he replied, his accent thick. He continued to shovel and looked toward Hogan, who nodded slightly. _Keep it up_.  


A few moments later, he stopped again and the shovel failed to keep him standing. Hogan caught the corporal as he lurched forward.   


This caught the attention of every prisoner on the detail and Schultz. Hogan managed to keep Newkirk from falling face down and steadied him on his feet.  


"What's the matter, Newkirk?" Hogan asked as Schultz walked over.  


"Sorry, sir," Newkirk said. "I just feel faint..."  


"What's going on here?" Schultz asked, showing concern. "What's wrong with Newkirk?"  


"He's not feeling so great," Hogan replied. "Listen, can we have him sit this round out, Schultz?"   


Before Schultz could answer, Hogan was leading Newkirk away from the work detail to a spot on the dirt road to sit down. Schultz caught up as the Englishman sat down and put his head in his hand.   


"He should be fine," Hogan said to the sergeant. "He's just a little light headed. Come to think of it he didn't eat much for breakfast this morning. I bet if he had something to eat he'd feel better."  


Schultz felt over the pockets of his coat and discovered he still had half a chocolate bar. "Perhaps this?" he asked, showing it to Hogan.  


"That might do the trick."  


Newkirk looked up. "If it's that ruddy German chocolate, I don't want it."  


Schultz chuckled. "It is not." He undid the re-wrapped wrapper and broke off a piece of the chocolate, handing it to Newkirk. The Englishman recognized the wrapper, part of Schultz's winnings from the poker game two nights ago, and smiled up at Schultz. "You're a life saver, Schultzie."   


Schultz smiled. "Well, it is the least I can do seeing as I beat you at poker."  


"Lucky shot."  


Despite Schultz's act of kindness, Newkirk didn't appear to be any better once the detail made it back to camp. He walked back on his own power, but resumed his dizzy/light headed act once everyone was back in the compound. After Schultz dismissed the prisoners, the sergeant. watched as Newkirk made his way back to Barracks Two, with LeBeau and Carter flanking him, each offering a steady hand as he slowly walked.   


"Colonel Hogan," Schultz said before Hogan could join up with the others. The Colonel turned back to the sergeant. "I think the Kommandant should be made aware of this," he said.   


"Oh I'm sure Newkirk will be fine, Schultz. He's probably just been worked too hard on the work detail." The Colonel grinned.   
"Huh. In my opinion the Englander does not do enough work on the detail."  


"Well, there ya go. Today was just too much for him. I'll let Newkirk know you're worried about him though. He'll appreciate that." The Colonel smiled and turned back in the direction of the barracks. Schultz headed toward Klink's office.  


"What did Schultz want?" Carter asked when Hogan returned inside the barracks.  


"He's going to let Klink know that Newkirk's not feeling well." He looked at Peter. "He also thinks you don't work hard enough during the detail."  


"Bloody hell," Newkirk replied and then smirked. The other's snickered.  


"So far, everything's working fine," Hogan continued. "We'll keep up our little charade during roll call at noon and tonight you're going to be ill enough that I'll be asking Klink to send for Doctor Weinstein."  


"Shouldn't we maybe let the good doctor know that we'll be calling for 'em?" Newkirk asked.  


Hogan nodded. "Already did. I had Kinch send a message before we went out on the work detail."  


"So all we do now is wait to finish playing out our cards," LeBeau said.  


"Cards," Newkirk said with a grin. "Excellent idea, LeBeau." The Englishman sat down at the table and picked up the deck of playing of cards that were in the middle. Immediately he began to shuffle them like a professional gambler extending an unvoiced invite to anyone to join him for a game or two.

  
At the noon roll call, Schultz had no more than dismissed the prisoners when Newkirk started falling forward again. This time he had Hogan and Carter catch him.   


"I'm just not feelin' well, sir," he said to Hogan after being steadied and while in ear shot of Schultz. "I keep thinking it's going to pass and it's not."  


"It's all right corporal, let's get you back to the barracks..." Hogan nodded to Carter and the two of them escorted Newkirk back to the number two barracks. Schultz watched in concern and then followed.   


Hogan and Carter got Newkirk to a bunk and the Englishman laid down. He closed his eyes and Carter placed a hand over Newkirk's forehead.   


"He seems to be running a bit of a fever, sir."  


Hogan stepped up next to the bunk and looked at Newkirk. "Besides feeling faint, how else have you been feeling lately?"   


"Rotten," Peter admitted. He opened his eyes and looked up at the Colonel, who now had Schultz standing beside him. "It started last night. Felt more tired then usual. Had the chills, stomach felt kinda queasy. Figured it was because of dinner..."  


Hogan looked at Schultz. "Guess it wasn't the work detail."  


Schultz shook his head. "Perhaps the Kommandant should call for the doctor."  


Hogan turned his attention to his men. "Keep an eye on Newkirk. I'm going to go talk to Klink."  


"Yes sir." 

  
Camp Kommandant Wilhelm Klink hardly looked up when Hogan entered the office without knocking. "Sir, I'd like to speak with you for a minute."  


Klink sighed. "Hogan, what is it? I'm extremely busy!"  


"I'm sorry sir, but it's Newkirk. He's ill and I'm making a formal request to have the doctor in Hamelburg come take a look at him."  


Klink looked up, regarding Hogan through his monocle. "Hmm...yes, Schultz told me what happened during the work detail this morning."  


"I think he's getting worse. It could be something serious."  


"Hmm..." Klink pondered for a moment and then pointed his pen at Hogan. "Why do I get the feeling you're trying to pull something?"  


"Me?? At a time like this?? One of my men is possibly deathly ill and you think I'm trying to pull something?! Of all the things I've been accused of by you, that's the lowest Kommandant. Besides, we don't know what he's sick with. What if it's something contagious and all the guards catch it and then it spreads through out Germany and you loose the war because everybody had to call in sick?"  


Klink looked at Hogan wide eyed and then suddenly snatched up the phone. "Fraulien Hilda? Would you please put me through to Dr. Weinstein in Hamelburg? Danke."   


Hogan smiled. "You're all heart, Kommandant."  


Klink covered the mouth piece of the phone with his hand. "Not if you or any of your men are planning an escape with this. You have been warned Colonel Hogan. Dissss-misssed."   


Hogan saluted with a grin and turned to leave. Before he closed the door, he heard Klink greet Dr. Weinstein. 

  
About thirty minutes later, Dr. Zamiel Weinstein concluded his "examination" of Newkirk. Colonel Hogan graciously allowed for the use of his private quarters while the doctor did his examination. During the "exam," which lasted all of 15 minutes, Weinstein and Newkirk talked of what would happen once Peter got to the hospital. Newkirk threw an occasional cough in, in case anyone was listening at the door. Once the details were settled upon, Newkirk laid back down on the bottom bunk and the doctor opened the door.  


Hogan and Klink were the first ones to the door, with Schultz just behind them. The other prisoners were also gathered around in curiosity. The doctor looked grimly at the camp Kommandant and senior POW officer.  


"Gentlemen, this man is very ill. He's displaying symptoms of influenza."  


"Influenza?" Klink repeated surprised.  


"JA, Kommandant. This man should be removed immediately to reduce any risk of exposure to the soldiers."  


"And to the other prisoners?" Hogan added.  


"JA, and the prisoners as well," Weinstein replied. "The prisoner will be placed under quarantine, Kommandant, probably for several days." Weinstein looked at Hogan. "He will be treated in accordance with the Geneva Convention, Colonel."  
Hogan nodded.  


"Very well," Klink said. "Schultz, help the doctor take Newkirk to his truck."  


Schultz hesitated. "Uh...me, Herr Kommandant?" And be exposed to influenza? Forget it!  


"Carter and I can help you take him out, doctor," Hogan said.   


Weinstein, as was customary, looked to Klink to make sure the Kommandant approved. Klink nodded.  


"Very well then," Weinstein said to Hogan. The Colonel and Carter went into the quarters and helped Newkirk to stand.   


"Schultz," Klink said as Newkirk was escorted out the door, "see to it that a guard is assigned to be posted outside Newkirk's room."  


"Jawhol, Herr Kommandant."  


"What do you need the guard for?" Hogan asked. "He's gonna be under quarantine."  


"There has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13," Klink reminded. "And I will take no chances."  


Dr. Weinstein reached his truck and opened up the back door.   


While Hogan and Carter were helping Newkirk into the back of truck, and keeping Klink and Schultz distracted, LeBeau and Kinch made a quick deposit of a duffle bag into the front seat of the truck. They then nonchalantly mingled back into the small group that was seeing Newkirk off.  


"Take care of yourself," Hogan said quietly to the corporal. "And get back here as soon as you can."  


"I will sir."  


Hogan nodded and turned to step out of the truck. Carter smiled at Newkirk. "Hope ya feel better."  


"So do I, in more ways than one."  


Carter gave his friend a pat on the shoulder and then jumped down out of the truck. The door was closed and the doctor nodded to Klink, taking his leave. The prisoners stood back and watched as the truck rolled on toward the gate with a staff car of two guards following.   


The heroes gathered around the Colonel, all eyes watching the truck clear the gate and travel down the road toward Hamelburg.   


"I'll go radio to Serilda that he's out," Kinch said.  


Hogan nodded. "Tell her the plan is for Newkirk to leave the hospital around 10:30 tonight, so she'll want to be there then."  


Kinch nodded and headed toward the barracks.   


With the truck and guards gone, the camp resumed it's normal facade. Klink headed back to his office, Schultz to the officer's mess and Hogan, LeBeau and Carter strolled back to barracks two. Despite the smooth sailing of getting Newkirk out of camp, Hogan couldn't shake his unease with the mission. In fact, it seemed to intensify now that things were set into motion.

**Hamelburg Hospital   
Hamelburg, Germany  
January 31, 1944**

Doctor Weinstein made sure the Peter was placed in a room that was on the first floor and out of site of the front side of the building. Peter spent the long afternoon and evening going over the items in his duffel bag. Every couple of hours, Dr. Weinstein would "check" on his patient and deliver to Newkirk any last minute items the corporal might need for his trip to Berlin. When he wasn't double checking his items, Newkirk spent the time studying the layout of the route to Berlin. Serilda would be supplying the car and any supplemental uniforms he or they might need. As far as Peter could tell from the map, there would be at least five checkpoints between Hamelburg and Berlin and it would be a long drive.   


At approximately 10:15, Dr. Weinstein made his final rounds for the night. The guard outside Newkirk's room nodded and stepped away as the doctor opened the door. The guard never made any attempt to look into the room to see if Newkirk was still in there. If the man was sick and under quarantine, what was the point?  


Newkirk, on the other hand, remained cautious at all times. Hidden behind the curtain that separated the two beds, he paused from buttoning the shirt of his SS uniform and listened. "Dr. Weinstein?"  


"Ja..." The doctor peered around the curtain and smiled. "The guard still steps away from the door. Every time it seems to be a few inches more."  


Newkirk grinned.   


"Do you have everything you need?" Dr. Weinstein asked.  


Peter nodded. "I'm pretty sure I do. If I don't I'll find out quick." He grinned and finished dressing into the uniform of an SS Lieutenant, tugging his shirt sleeves down in the jacket sleeves. He looked up at the doctor.  


"_Can you speak German as well as you look it?_" Weinstein asked.   


"_You tell me_."  


Weinstein smiled. "Good luck to you, Herr Newkirk. The young woman who will be traveling with you is waiting just outside the front entrance. She is sitting on a bench near the walkway."  


Newkirk nodded. "Thank you, doctor. Thank you for all you have done." He put his hand out.  


Weinstein shook it. "Bitte." _You're welcome._ "Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Newkirk."  


"Auf Wiedersehen."  


Doctor Weinstein turned to leave. At the door, he turned the lights down low, as was customary at this hour of the night, but also to provide Newkirk the cover he would need when he climbed out of the window. After the door closed, Peter went over to the window.  


Making as little noise as possible, Peter pushed the window open, feeling a blast of cold air sweep into the room. Peter looked around and noted that several bushes and shrubs hid the window of this room from view of the street and walkway. Quietly he leaned out the window and put his duffel bag down in the snow and then slipped out the window. He turned around and pulled the window back down, closing it.   


Peter moved up within the shrubs until he was close enough to the walkway to see if anyone was walking past. Seeing he was alone, he stepped out on to the walkway and walked without hesitation around to the front side of the hospital.  


He spotted the bench and the lone figure that was sitting there. He walked up to it and recognized Serilda in the faint light from the front of the hospital.   


"Wie bitte, Fraulien," _Excuse me, miss_. "Is this seat taken?"  


Serlida turned to him and smiled. "It is now." She stood up and hugged him warmly.   


"Ready to go?" he asked.  


"I'm ready. The car is parked down the street."  


He nodded. Serilda picked up her suitcase and they walked to the street. Doctor Weinstein watched from the stairway as they disappeared into the dark, saying a silent prayer for their safe return. 

~End Part One~

Part Two


	2. OHF: Chapter Two

**Hamelburg East Checkpoint   
Hamelburg, Germany  
January 31, 1944**  
  
Peter and Serilda reached the first checkpoint only twenty miles outside of Hamelburg. The barricade came into view of their headlights, as did the very light falling snow. The guard motioned for them to come to a stop and he walked up to the driver window.   


"Guten Abend." _Good Evening_. "Heil Hitler." The guard saluted, seeing Peter's SS emblems on his collar.  


"Heil Hitler," Peter returned. He handed his forged Soldbuch (Paybook) and Sonderausweis D (Special Identity Document D, D meaning Dienstreisen or Service Travel) to the soldier. The soldier looked them over, matched the photographs in them to Newkirk's face and determined them to be authentic. He handed them back to Peter.  


"There is a storm expected this evening," the soldier said, looking into the car at Peter and Serilda. "I hope the Reichslieutentant and Fraulien do not have far to travel."  


"I was not aware of the latest weather reports," Newkirk replied. Which was true, he wasn't. "Perhaps it will not be wise for us to continue," he said, looking at Serilda.  


"We probably won't make it to Gottingen before the storm hits," Serilda said. She looked at the soldier. "Do you know of a place to stay the night?"  


"Ja, about 5 kilometers down the road there is a turn off. Follow that road for about a kilometer and there is a Rasthof (motel) on the right hand side."  


Serilda nodded. "Danke."  


The soldier smiled and looked to his partner to raise the barricade. The soldier than clicked his heels and saluted Peter. Newkirk raised his hand and gave a nod. "Heil Hitler."  


The car then cleared the checkpoint and disappeared into the dark. 

Peter and Serilda unloaded their single bags from their car and walked into the two story Rasthof. The lobby area was small with a fireplace off to one side. The room was quiet, warm and inviting and they shook the light snow off their coats as they removed them. The woman behind the desk watched them and then smiled as they approached.   


"Guten Abend," the woman said returning a smile. "The snow is coming, once again."  


"JA," Serilda replied. "It does not help the war effort any."  


"That it does not." The woman flickered a glance at Peter, trying not to be daunted by the imposing black uniform of the SS. She was a loyal German, but she had her doubts as to how well the war was actually going.   


"I beg to differ, my dear Schwester (Sister)," Peter said. "Our military forces are adapt to all weather conditions. There is no such thing as a bad weather for a good German soldier."  


"Of course, Bruder (Brother), but the weather does not help _us_ get to Berlin any faster."  


"Das stimmt." _That's true_.  


Serilda smiled and looked at the woman. "Do you have two rooms?"  


The woman nodded. After they signed in, she handed them their keys and led them upstairs to their rooms. She told them if they needed anything they could call down to the desk and either herself or her husband would answer. She then wished them a good night.  


"Danke," Serilda said. "Gute Nacht."  


"Gute Nacht," Peter echoed.   


The woman nodded and turned to leave. Peter unlocked the door to his room and put his bag down inside the door. He then came back to Serilda's room and peered in.  


"Are you all set?" he asked.  


"Yes." She turned from her bag on the bed and smiled. "Anjte was right, you do make a convincing German."  


"I'm a showman." He grinned. "I figure we'll leave first thing in the morning, assuming we're not snowed in here."  


Serilda nodded.   


"Okay..." He was about to bid her good night when she said his name.   


"Peter."  


"Yes?"  


She walked over to him and placed her hand on the edge of the open door. "I'm glad you were able to come with me."   


He smiled and took her hand in his. "So am I." He gently kissed the top of it.  


She giggled and he slowly let go of her hand, smiling at her. "Good night, Serilda."  


"Good night, Peter."

**Stalag 13, Barracks #2  
February 1, 1944**

The next morning, after roll call, Kinch received a message from the Underground in Hamelburg from Doctor Weinstein. He took the message up to the barracks and showed it to Colonel Hogan.  


The other prisoners gathered around as the Colonel read the message. He then looked up at everyone.  


"Newkirk's on his way to Berlin," he said with a sigh. "Begin the beguine...."

**Muhle Rasthof (Mill Motel)  
Outside Hamelburg, Germany  
February 1, 1944**

Peter and Serilda were not snowed in to the Rasthof and it only took them a few minutes to clear off their car. Traveling on the snow covered roads, however, was not as quick as the snow plows had not been through on the secondary roads yet. Once they reached the main road that would take them to Gottingen the road was clear and the further east they traveled the less snow that had fallen.   


By mid morning, the clouds broke and the sun poured through. The pilot in Newkirk was encouraged, as such weather was always welcomed for a raid.   


Serilda noticed him smiling. "It is pretty countryside, is it not?"  


Peter paused, but his smile didn't fade. "I have to apologize. I was actually thinking of..." his voice trailed off. The snow covered fields of England he flew his plane over before heading across the channel came to mind. "...of home." He glanced at her. "Sorry. It is pretty countryside, and I hope the goddamn Nazi's don't ruin it."  


She smiled. "It's okay, Peter. I have thought of home many times since I've been here." She looked out the window. "But this is the Germany my parents used to speak of and it is the scenery that gives me comfort. I find no joy in going to Berlin. The Nazi's have _ruined_ that city."  


"The Nazi's have ruined a lot of things for this country," Peter concurred. It wasn't until he met Serilda, that Peter started to separate the German nation from the current German government. Not all Germans were Nazi's. In the barracks, the collective use of the slurs of Kraut, Jerries and other words to describe any German, regardless of their allegiance to National Socialism were used freely and without regard. But after hearing Serilda's story of why she would leave a comfortable life in the United States and come to a country so choked with fear and repression, Peter began to understand patriotism on a deeper level. Serilda was part of a fight, not against her country, but against it's totalitarianism form of government that, granted, had rebuilt the German nation....but demanded the world in repayment for that deed.  


Serilda had come to Germany in the mid '30's because she had heard of a secret resistance movement to try to thwart the Nazi effort. The risks were incredible but the ultimate goal, the obliteration of the Nazi regime, was what sustained them. On the surface they appeared to be loyal to the Nazi party, but they were quietly gathering information to help any future efforts of those who found themselves embroiled in war with the Third Reich.   


At first it seemed like the rest of the world didn't care. Hitler took real estate in Europe without hardly a shot of resistance being fired. Appeasement and pacifism achieved "peace in our time" as the memories of the first World War were still, after twenty years, fresh in people's minds. Nobody wanted to end up in a Great War again. But for the people who came under Nazi Germany's influence, they only knew fear and repression. Things looked bleak.  


Even after the war started in September of 1939, the mood remained bleak. Hitler's blitzkrieg warfare saw nations fall in less than year. Poland, Holland, Belgium, Norway and France. World domination looked to be within Hitler's reach.   


But England refused to fall and her determined resistance fueled inspiration to the movement. Quietly they helped gather information to help the RAF bombers both in defending England and in their own raids over Germany. After the United States was brought into the war with the attack on Pearl Harbor, the resistance, by this point known as the Underground, began to see the distant light at the end of the tunnel.   


"I did not leave the US because I did not like it there," Serilda explained to Peter once, "I left because my ancestral homeland and the country of my birth had to be protected. I am American and I am German, and one day my two homelands will be allies."  


Peter respected and admired her patriotism.   


"They will be stopped," Serilda said softly, keeping her eyes to the countryside. "They _will_ be stopped..."  


"You bet they will." He paused. "Have you ever been to England?"  


Serilda shook her head. "I haven't. I would like to see it someday."  


"When the war's over and the Nazi's have been obliterated, I'd like to give you the grand tour." He grinned. "Maybe celebrate the signing of the armistice with a round at a little pub in London. And you won't have to serve it."  


Serilda giggled. "I think that sounds wonderful."  


"Yeah..." Peter smiled at her. "I like the idea myself."

**Stalag 13, Barracks #2  
February 1, 1944**

The snow fall at Stalag 13 was more than what Peter and Serilda had encountered and being put to work shoveling was a welcomed distraction, for Colonel Hogan at least. Despite being exhausted from pacing the night before and watching the snow pile up on the ground outside the window of the barracks, Hogan shoveled at a steady pace. It broke his concentration for a bit from all the 'what-ifs' and worst case scenarios running through his head. But once all the work was done, Hogan returned to his worrisome state.  


Back inside the barracks, the heroes gathered around the old stove and table to drink lukewarm coffee and attempt to warm up. As the men chatted and bantered around him, Hogan sat at the table, gazing at the top of it, deep in thought. He trusted Newkirk's ability, there was no doubt about that. But he couldn't help but wonder if all this was just the tip of the iceberg to something bigger. What bothered him more, was that he couldn't figure out what that bigger thing could possibly be. He couldn't help but wonder if he and Newkirk and everyone else were walking blindly into a trap.  


His thoughts were interrupted when he caught sight of the coffee pot hovering over his cup. He looked up as Kinch poured a fresh cup and he noticed Carter and LeBeau were regarding him curiously.  


"Thanks, Kinch."  


"You're worried about Newkirk aren't you sir?" Carter asked.  


Hogan nodded and sighed. "Yeah. I just can't shake the feeling that there's something more to this. Something worse." He shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it's because I can't make heads or tails out of what we've got already. There's an answer in Berlin, but I'm not so sure I'm going to like it."  


"I've got the feeling we're not going to like the question either," Kinch said.  


"Exactly. And this sitting around waiting is going to drive me nuts."

**Gottingen, Germany  
February 1, 1944**

Twenty miles west of Gottingen, Peter and Serilda came to another checkpoint. The guards respectfully saluted Peter and found his documents to be in order, letting him and Serilda pass through with no hassle. They would pass through the city of Gottingen and two check points east of Gottingen with no problems. The closer they got to Berlin, the more scrutiny they started getting from the checkpoint guards.  


"Guten Tag," the soldier said, peering into the window. "Would you step out of the car please? Fraulien?"  


Peter glanced at Serilda and they stepped out of the car. One of the other guards came to flank Serilda.  


Peter saw this and looked at the guard near him. "And the purpose of this, soldier?" he asked.  


"I am merely following my orders, Herr Reichslieutenant. For the safety and security of the Fatherland. Papier?"  


Peter handed his documents to the guard. The guard flipped open the Soldbuch and compared the photograph to Peter. He then inspected the Sonderausweis D. "What is the nature of your travel to Berlin?" he asked conversationally.  


"My Swester's fiancé." Peter motioned to Serilda. "I am accompanying her so that she may see him."  


"I see." The guard continued to inspect the documents and then finally returned them to Peter. "Danke, Herr Reichslieutenant. May you travel safely." The guard clicked his boots and saluted. "Heil Hitler."  


Peter gave a lazy salute in return. "Heil Hitler." He watched to make sure the other guard backed off of Serilda and both soldiers walked to the barricade. Peter and Serilda returned inside their vehicle and drove through once the barricade was lifted.   


Peter looked back briefly and then turned to the road in front of him. "I hope you don't mind my saying...but I'm getting just a little bit more nervous the closer we're getting to Berlin."  


Serilda nodded. "Yes, I know..." She looked at him and smiled. "But remember, you are a convincing German."  


"Thanks for reminding me. I was trying to forget!" 

**Berlin, Germany  
February 1, 1944**

The night time streets of Berlin were deserted when Peter and Serilda finally arrived. Air raid sirens blared in the distance and anybody who was on the street hurried quickly to their destination.   


"I was hoping we'd make it before dark," Peter said. "The lads have been bombing the hell outta Berlin every night since August. Just what we need to get caught in."   


"Then we must hurry." Serilda said.   


They pulled up in front of the Birken Hotel and, gathered their bags and quickly headed inside. The female desk clerk looked at them peculiarly.  


"Guten Tag," Serilda said, out of breath. "We need two rooms please."  


"I have two rooms but I can not put you in them yet. Not until the sirens stop. I must take you to the shelter downstairs."  


"Very well."   


The woman came out from behind the desk and motioned for them to follow her. "You are aware that the English planes have bombed us every night for several months now? I hope you are not here in Berlin for pleasure?"  


"We're aware of the bombing," Peter said. "We tried to make it before dark, but the storm in Gottingen held us up. Unfortunately, our trip here is not by choice, or for pleasure."  


"I hope you do not have to stay long. I don't know which is worse. The unpredictable weather or the awful English bombers!"   


Peter only a murmured a "hmm" in reply as he and Serilda followed the desk clerk down a darkened stair well. They came to a room, lit with five to six oil lamps, where several of the hotel's patrons were huddled together on the floor, against the concrete walls, with blankets and coffee cups containing either coffee or soup. Several eyes looked toward Peter and Serilda as they came in and Peter realized he was the only man in a uniform in the room. And an SS uniform at that, which turned most of the eyes away.  


Peter kept his eyes to himself and sat down next to Serilda at an empty spot against the concrete wall. The desk clerk handed them a blanket and asked them if they would care for a warm drink or soup. Both requested soup.  


Peter removed his uniform hat and they sat quietly. Voices carried softly as the patrons spoke with one another and mixed in with the din of conversation was the sound of classical music.   


A few moments later, a man came to them with two coffee cups filled with steaming hot potato soup.   


"Danke," Peter and Serilda each said.  


"Bitte. Heil Hitler," the man said.   


"Heil Hitler."  


The man walked away and Peter and Serilda quietly sipped at their soup. Peter noted that the soup tasted better than that which was served at camp. He and Serilda spoke only on general topics, the soup, the coldness of the basement or the classical music on the radio. Not twenty minutes later the floor vibrated with the sound of distant falling bombs. Thirty minutes after that the hotel shook as a building just less than a mile away took a direct hit.  


Serilda instinctively turned toward Peter and clutched his arm. She paused, catching her breath and then whispered, "I hope they don't hit us."  


"It would put a damper on things wouldn't it?" he replied.   


Most of the patrons seemed ill at ease, although many of them had lived through several raids already. But there was no such thing as getting used to it. Some sat with their heads bowed on their knees, others just stared down at the floor or into their empty coffee cups. Even Peter, who had lived through the Nazi's relentless bombing of London in 1940 couldn't help but pray that the hotel wasn't hit.   


The thunder of bombers flying over head and the pounding of bombs went on for three hours. The hotel rumbled and shook but was still standing when the bombing stopped a little after one in the morning. The wailing air raid sirens finally quieted down and the desk clerk announced that it was all clear to return upstairs.   


Hotel staff assisted folks up the stairs. Peter helped Serilda to stand and they followed the group to the stair well. Both were dead tired, after several hours driving and then sitting through three hours of bombing, the feel of a soft pillow beckoned each of them.   
After receiving their room keys they trudged up to the second floor of the hotel, a busboy following behind them with their luggage. He placed Peter's bag at the door of Peter's room, and then followed Serilda down to her door, leaving her bag. She thanked him and tipped him for both Peter and herself, and the man bade them good night.  


Peter left his bag by the side of the bed and turned to remove his uniform jacket. He spotted a door on the wall that faced Serilda's room and he went over to it. He opened it and found it was an adjoining door between the two rooms. He saw Serilda had already crashed on the bed and looked to be fast asleep. She was still in her clothes, shoes and hadn't bothered turning the covers down. He smiled at the sight and walked over to her. He removed her shoes and then gently lifted her head and back to pull the covers from under her. After laying her back down, he lifted her legs to get the rest of the cover out and then he pulled the covers over her. She stirred softly but didn't open her eyes. He brushed her hair back from her face and touched a finger to her cheek. "Goodnight, luv..."  


He turned her light off and quietly stepped back to his room. 

**Berlin, Germany  
February 2, 1944**

The next morning, Peter followed Serilda's direction through the snow melted, and in some cases rubble dusted streets of Berlin to Angus Marsden's shop. He parked the car near the curb in front of the clock shop and they both looked toward the door, the sign on it clear: Geschlossen. _Closed.  
_

"Are we early?" Peter asked.  


Serilda shook her head. "I don't think so. He opens the stop every morning at eight-thirty, precisely. Something is definitely wrong if he is not here during his posted hours." She paused. "He changes the meeting place and contact place often. If he's at one of those places, I don't know where it is."  


"Maybe we should try to find his family then, and determine what kind of situation we have there with the Gestapo."  


Serilda nodded. "Gisela would also know where the meeting and contact places are. Hopefully we can get that information without causing a stir."  


"All right, point the way."  


"Head down the street here, I'll tell you when to turn."  


Peter nodded and started the car. He then eased into Berlin's scant morning traffic, blending in easily. 

  
Gisela Marsden tried to ignore the Gestapo officer, Sturmscharführer (Sergeant Major) Kohler, who had become a permanent fixture in her living room, and concentrated on her housework. He offered no conversation but kept a watchful eye on her at all times. It was bad enough she had to feed the man, serve him coffee and liquor and be expected to be the least bit reasonable to him. The least he could do was move himself when she dusted.  


Naturally, considering the house arrest she and her children were under, she did not expect any visitors, other than perhaps more Gestapo men but they never came either. So when she heard the car pull into the drive she stopped to look out the window in surprise. Seeing Peter, who she didn't know from Adam, step out of the car dressed in an SS uniform caused her alarm. Seeing the woman, who she knew as Serilda, step out of the same car turned her alarm to panic.   


Kohler had stood up and was looking too. "Who are they?" he asked.  


"The woman is an old friend..." she stammered. "I am not sure of the SS officer."  


"You act normal," he said. "You tell them I am old friend of your husband's. You also try to get them out of here as soon as possible."  


Gisela nodded. She left the window and called to her children that they had visitors. The children, two boys ages 7 and 9 came to the parlor and sat down on the couch, quietly. Kohler returned to his seat as well.  


Peter and Serilda walked up the path and stood on the steps for only a moment. Before they could knock, the door opened and Gisela smiled at them. "Serilda! Hallo! It has been a long time." Gisela hugged her old friend. "Gestapo," she whispered.  


"Yes it's been awhile," Serilda said when they let go. She nodded at Gisela. "We were just passing through Berlin on our way to Hamburg and I wanted to stop and see you." Serilda hooked her arm around Peter's. "Gisela this is Hans, my fiancé."  


"Oh my," Gisela said and looked at Peter with a smile. "Oh Serilda, how wonderful! Can you come in for a little bit?"  


"Yes, but we can't stay too long."  


"Of course." Gisela stepped back so that Serilda and Peter could enter the house. The Gestapo officer stood up when he saw Peter and he saluted. "Heil Hitler."  


Peter gave a nod and returned the salute.  


"This is Adler," Gisela said. "He's an old friend of Angus's."   


Serilda smiled. "Nice to meet you."   


"Now tell me," Gisela said. "How did you meet and when's the wedding?" She giggled.  


Kohler returned to his seat and appeared as natural as possible. He had no concerns that Gisela would try anything, especially not in the presence of the SS. He relaxed as the women chatted away at the moment.   


Gisela offered tea to her guests and after they were served, more easy chatter followed. Peter now engaged the Gestapo man in conversation. After a few minutes, Gislea told Serilda of a piece of furniture Angus had purchased in Munich recently. She invited Serilda to follow her down to the bedroom to see it. Kohler found nothing wrong with this and only glanced up as the women walked down the hall. Peter, otherwise, kept his attention distracted in talking.   


Serilda closed the bedroom door part way behind her and Gisela turned to her. "You've taken a great risk coming here," she said.  


"I'm trying to find Angus," Serilda said. "The man out there is not an SS officer. He's an RAF pilot. He's part of Colonel Hogan's operations in Hamelburg and has been accused of treason, based on information that Angus apparently supplied to London."  


"It was the Gestapo. I don't know what they are trying to do, or why, but they have Angus under constant watch." She paused. "They killed Hagen and Otto when they took over."  


"Hagen?"   


Gisela nodded.   


Serilda sighed. That was not the answer she was hoping to take back to Anjte.   


"How many Gestapo officers have you and the children under guard?"  


"Just that one."  


"Can you tell me where the meeting and contact places are?"  


"The meeting place is on Ahorn Street, number 37 in the back. The contact place is the Goldfasan Pub on Osten Street."  


Serilda nodded. "We'll be back for you and the children."  


"Serilda, you must be careful. If they even suspect that you and Hans are not what you seem then you have done your friend no favor."  


"We will be careful. Come, we best go back out before the man becomes suspicious." They returned to the parlor where Peter and the Gestapo officer stood up.   


"Well, it has been good to see you again, Gisela," Serilda said. "If we are to make our appointment in Hamburg, however, we must be going."  


"Of course, of course." Gisela smiled and then hugged her friend. "It has been wonderful to see you again, Serilda, even if only for a short time. I wish you and Hans best wishes together."  


"Thank you. We should be back in town in a couple of months, we will stop and see you. Hopefully Angus will be here as well."  


"He would like that. Take care of yourself." Gisela took Peter's hands in hers. "You be good to Serilda, JA?"  


Peter smiled. "I will."  


"Good."  


Kohler offered courtesies to Peter and then Gisela walked her guests to the door. They said good-bye and Peter and Serilda walked out to their car, saying nothing to one another until they were in.  


"I got the locales from Gisela," Serilda said. "She also said that it's only that one Gestapo officer watching them."  


"One too many," Peter said, starting the car. A moment later they drove away.

  
The Goldfasan Pub was tucked away between two large buildings in the heart of Berlin, only five miles from the Reichstag itself. To find it, however, one had to travel through a few winding roads and past bombed out buildings half cleared away.   


"I thought I knew every nook and cranny of Berlin," Serilda said as they pulled up to the curb. "I never would have found this place." They paused and looked toward the pub, seeing the lights on inside and the few tables near the windows were empty. It almost seemed like the pace was closed, but the few movements from inside and seeing a person or two at other tables not far from the window told otherwise.  


"Will you recognize him when you see him?" Peter asked.  


Serilda nodded. "It's always safer to check with the bartender first, in case Angus should not recognize me."  


"Okay. Let's go introduce ourselves then." They stepped out of the car and nonchalantly walked into the pub, Peter holding the door open for Serilda. A few people looked toward them as they came in but did not seem to find the presence of an SS officer particularly alarming. Only after looking around the place, did Peter notice a Luftwaffe pilot, a Wehrmacht soldier and two soldiers of the Waffen SS were already represented in the crowd.  


At the back corner, with clear view of the door, Angus watched the couple come in. He faintly recognized the woman and only when her face turned toward him did he finally distinguish who she was. He cast a glance to his left at Lt. Weisburg, who had a curious eye on the SS officer. Angus casually sipped at his coffee, hoping that Weisburg didn't notice him looking at the woman.   
Peter and Serilda walked up to the counter.   


"Hallo," Serilda said and smiled at the bartender. "We are looking for Angus Marsden."  


The bartender nodded. "Back corner, Fraulein."  


Serilda looked to the back and then thanked the bartender. With Peter she began to walk over to Angus's table.   


"They were asking for you," Weisburg said, watching the two as they weaved through tables.   


Angus only nodded, although he wished they hadn't been asking for him. Just what he needed, a possible defecting SS officer and one of his old comrades of the Underground, to whom he couldn't tell that the man sitting next to him was Gestapo.   


"Herr Marsden?" Serilda said.   


Angus and Weisburg stood up and Angus nodded. "Yes?"  


"My name is Ava von Dashden, and this is my brother Hans. May we talk to you for a moment?"  


"Of course," he motioned for them to sit down. "This is my associate Bernard Weisburg."  


"How do you do?" Serilda said. Weisburg gave a nod in answer.  


"Now," Marsden said. "What is it can I help you with?"  


Serilda cast a cautious glance around the pub and then looked back to Marsden. "Herr Marsden," she said softly, "we need to get out of Germany."  


"You are in trouble, or are merely looking to defect?"  


Serilda looked at Peter. "Both," Newkirk answered. "I have seen things that I should not have."  


"Something that would help the Allies?"  


Peter nodded.   


"Is the SS command aware that you know this information?"  


"I'm not sure. I think they may suspect that I do."  


Angus paused. "Please understand that my situation warrants this question: Is what you know worth risking life and limb to get you out of this country?"  


"The knowledge of weapons and the information from the project I was a part of would be worth the risk, Herr Marsden. Up until 4 months ago I was a loyal German....but with what the High Command has in store for the SS to carry out against the Allies, I could not let it happen. It's no longer the winning of a war, it's the obliteration of entire peoples." Although Peter was making up his explanation, his declaration of what the German High Command had in mind was true, although few people, including himself, knew it at the time.  


Angus considered this for a moment and then nodded. "Very well then. I can have you on your way out of Germany by Friday morning. Tomorrow night, there is a ball being held by Baron von Ushdergen and it is open for members of the military to attend. It will be held at the Baron's residence just east of Berlin. I will be there and I will put you in contact with the right people." Angus took his pen from his coat and wrote on one of the napkins. "Here is the address. It begins at 7 p.m." He slid the napkin across the table to Serilda. "I will probably not find you right away so I could encourage you to partake of the Baron's gracious hospitality."  


Serilda and Peter nodded.  


"Be careful," Angus cautioned before lifting his hand from the napkin for Serilda to take it. "Be very careful."  


"We will." Serilda carefully tucked the napkin into her purse.  


"Thank you, Herr Marsden," Peter said.   


Angus nodded and watched the two stand up to leave. As they walked to the door, Lt. Weisburg pulled a small notebook from his jacket pocket. "Gestapo headquarters will be interested to hear this..." he said, writing the name of the SS officer down.   


Angus only sighed and took a drink of his coffee.   


Back in Berlin traffic, Peter guided the car down a street and around a corner.   


"Who was that other fellow?"  


"I don't know." Serilda paused and then sighed heavily. "I think he's Gestapo."  


"Terrific. And we just told him I'm an SS officer looking to defect." Peter sighed now. "Do you think Marsden recognized you?"  


Serilda nodded. "Yes. That's why he warned us. That's also why he is having us go to the Baron's ball. It is a different arrangement then what he usually does."  


"I've been to social functions before but...what's this ball going to entail?"  


"I'll tell you all about it." 

  
**Stalag 13  
February 2, 1944**

Carter came into the barracks quickly and looked at Hogan. "Colonel, Major Hochstetter's here."  


The other heroes stepped toward the door and watched as the Major's car came to a stop by Klink's office.   


"Wonder what he's doin' here?" Kinch asked. Hochstetter disappeared into the building after giving the guard a quick salute.  


"Let's find out." Hogan led the men away from the door and to his quarters. Carter shut the door as LeBeau set up the coffee pot.  


Over at Klink's office, Hochstetter was being greeted by a grinning Kommandant and a smiling Sgt. Schultz who stood in the background.  


"To what do we owe this visit, Major?" Klink asked as he sat behind his desk.  


The Major sat down and looked at Klink across the desk. "A few days ago the Gestapo in Berlin infiltrated a spy group there that is believed to have some connection to Dusseldorf. I'm going to be in town for a few days to investigate. I may need volunteers if there is to be a raid."  


"Of course, of course. A group of spies right in Berlin, you say?"  


"Yes, it was a small operation but effective nonetheless. We've put a stop to it and quite possibly now have a chance to put a stop to other groups that operate within Germany."  


Klink smiled. "Well that's certainly some good news for the Reich!"  


Over in the barracks, the heroes all exchanged glances. "Not for us," Hogan said softly.   


"Newkirk will be walking right into a trap in Berlin," Kinch said.  


"If he hasn't already," Carter added.  


Hogan held a hand up. "Let's see what else the Major has to say before we start to panic."  


"If it's all right with you sir, I'm gonna start to panic now," Carter said.  


Back in Klink's office, Hochstetter arrived at the next reason for his visit to the Stalag. "I also came because I wanted to ask you about one of your prisoners."  


"Which one?"  


"The Englander. Newkirk."  


The heroes all looked at Hogan. "Now we panic," the Colonel said.  


"What is it you want to know?" Klink asked.  


"Has he been acting strangely lately?"  


Klink paused. "No." He looked over to Schultz.   


The sergeant shook his head. "No more a jolly joker than usual."  


"Major, why do you ask?"  


"Gestapo headquarters believes that Newkirk is looking to defect from the Allies and join with the Reich."  


Klink and Schultz both had eye popping expressions.   


"Newkirk?" Schultz said.  


"I knew it!" Klink exclaimed. "I knew it, ever since he did that broadcast with Berlin Betty! He knows the war is fruitless for the English, therefore it's better to join up with the winning side!" Klink grinned.   


"Yes..." Hochstetter concurred with a nod. Schultz however, didn't look so convinced.  


"What further evidence do you have of this, Major?" Klink asked anxiously.  


"It is top secret. But I would like to talk to him at some point, to see if the suspicions are correct and be the first to welcome him to the Reich."   


"Well, that may be awhile, Major."  


Hochstetter narrowed his eyes. "Why's that?"  


"Newkirk is in the hospital in Hamelburg; very ill. The doctor has him under quarantine."  


"Quarantine?"  


"Thinks it might be influenza and didn't want to risk exposing the soldiers or other prisoners."  


"I see..." Hochstetter found this peculiar to say the least, but made no indication to Klink. "When did he become ill?"  


"Tuesday. He's been in the hospital since."  


Hochstetter nodded. "I guess I will have to wait to speak to him then." He stood to leave. "Let me know when the quarantine has been lifted."  


Klink stood up. "Certainly, Major." The two men saluted and Hochstetter walked toward the door that was held open by Schultz.  
Back in the barracks, LeBeau replaced the lid on the coffee pot and unplugged the transceiver.   


"Damn," Hogan said. "There's our answer. And our question."  


"Hochstetter?" LeBeau said.  


"I think he set it up. I think he's trying to set us up, to flush us out..." Hogan turned and paced. "He ordered the Gestapo take over of Marsden's group and put through that false treason charge. Now, he's here to see what we, or Newkirk would do and he knows that Newkirk being in the hospital _under quarantine_ is too damn convenient and he's going to be checking to see if Newkirk is really there."  


"So what do we do?" Kinch asked  


Hogan paused and turned back to his men. "We tell him that Newkirk has Nazi sympathies."  


"PAH!" LeBeau said. "If Newkirk heard you say that he'd spit on you."  


"But not before he would play it up. Kinch, I want you to send a message to Dr. Weinstein. Tell him Hochstetter may show up at the hospital looking for Newkirk. Tell him to act surprised that Newkirk's missing and nothing more."  


Kinch nodded and left to send the message.  


"What do we do in the meantime?" LeBeau asked.  


"Keep a careful eye on Hochstetter and get ready to fly the coup. If we play up Hochstetter's angle it'll buy us some time." He looked at Carter. "Can you get some charges ready for the radio and the tunnels?"   


Carter nodded. "You bet."  


"Okay. LeBeau, I want you to collect together our code books, maps, any sensitive documents to be destroyed with the radio."  


"Oui, Colonel."   


"Sir?" Carter said. "What about Newkirk?"  


Hogan paused. "We'll leave word with the Underground. If he gets back here from Berlin and we've left, they'll get him to England."  


"Meaning we ain't gonna see him again..." Carter said quietly.  


Hogan sighed heavily. "Possibly not..."

  
**Hamelburg Hospital  
Hamelburg, Germany  
February 3, 1944**

A little sooner than the doctor expected, Major Hochstetter arrived at the hospital the next morning with two Gestapo guards in tow.   


"Major, I must protest! The man is under quarantine for a reason. I do not recommend that you risk exposing yourself."  


"I am aware of the risk doctor," Hochstetter replied. "Take me to prisoner's room."  


Dr. Weinstein sighed. "Very well then. But if you become ill, Major, it's your health. I take no responsibility." Dr. Weinstein headed down the hall and Hochstetter followed.  


As they came down the hall the guard outside the door stood up straighter. The doctor opened the door and held it open for Hochstetter to come in. They then went to the far end of the room and looked behind the curtain.  


The bed, as both expected, was empty.  


Dr. Weinstein reacted right on cue. "I don't believe this! Major, I assure you the man has been under guard and I have done routine checks!"  


The Major held his hand up. "It is all right, Doctor. I do not fault your procedures..." Hochstetter looked around the room and then walked over to the window, nodding to himself. "He more than likely escaped out the window, he would not have needed much time."  


"I apologize, nonetheless, Herr Major."  


Hochstetter nodded. "It's possible the man was not even ill." He walked back to the door with Dr. Weinstein following. The doctor wondered just how much Hochstetter knew about Newkirk not being there.

  
**Stalag 13  
February 3, 1944**

"You went to the hospital?" Klink said, coming around his desk to stand before Major Hochstetter. "I thought you were going to wait until the quarantine was lifted?"  


"Yes, originally I was but time was of the essence as I'm sure you can understand. However, when I got there, Newkirk was not there."  


"Whaat?? Then he's escaped!"  


"Yes--I mean no. Not necessarily. It's possible he faked being ill in order to get out of camp...to meet a contact perhaps."  


"Yes..." Klink folded his arms in front of him. "Yes, that's possible but...what I don't understand though, Major, is if Newkirk was looking to defect, why not just come to me? It would have saved all this run around."  


"Ah yes, well...it's possible that he didn't want to be seen by the other prisoners."  


"I suppose that's possible."  


Over in the barracks, Hogan and the others were listening to the conversation.   


"I think it's time to call Hochstetter's bluff," Hogan said. He left his quarters and the barracks and walked across the yard to Klink's office. He knocked and opened the door at the same time.  


"Sir, can I--"  


"Hogan! Go away, I'm busy!"  


"I know sir but this is-- oh. Major Hochstetter, what a pleasant surprise."  


"Colonel Hogan, a pleasure always."  


"Can it wait, Hogan?" Klink asked.  


"Well I suppose it could but...well, ya see the men have been working on a get well card for Newkirk and we'd really appreciate it if it could be delivered with the next change of the guard."  


"Hogan! You call that important??"  


"It's important to us, sir."  


"Actually, Klink," Hochstetter interrupted. "Perhaps we should invite the Colonel to sit down and tell him the news."  


"News?" Hogan said, all innocence.  


"Yes," Hochstetter took a step back and offered one of the chairs in front of Klink's desk to Hogan. The Colonel closed the door, removing his hat and walked to the chair, sitting down. He looked at Hochstetter and Klink.  


"Colonel Hogan," Hochstetter said. "Peter Newkirk is not in the hospital in Hamelburg."  


Hogan's facial expression was perfect. "He's not??"  


"No. Some time after he arrived there Tuesday he checked himself out."  


Hogan narrowed his eyes. "That means he's escaped." He looked at Klink. "Sir, I give you my word as an officer that I didn't think this would happen. I truly believed he was sick!"  


"He didn't escape, Colonel," Hochstetter said.  


Hogan paused, acting like he didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean he didn't escape?"  


"Several days ago, the Gestapo received information indicating that Newkirk was looking to _defect_."  


Hogan sat in stone silence. He wrung his hat a little bit and then stood up, turning away from Klink and Hochstetter. "I didn't want to believe it," he said softly.  


Hochstetter and Klink had matching confused expressions. "Believe what, Colonel?" Klink asked.  


Hogan stood for a moment and then slowly turned back to the Kommandant and Hochstetter. "Newkirk having...Nazi sympathies." He shook his head, ashamed of it all. "I should have known. I should have tried to help him. Obviously the long confinement, the sometimes unshakable sense of hopelessness has...taken it's toll."  


"Colonel Hogan," Klink said, coming to stand next to Hogan, "are you saying that you've had suspicions about Corporal Newkirk?"  


Hogan nodded. "For about a month or so. I've spotted him reading _Mein Kampf_ several times, practicing German, he wasn't writing as many letters home. He even started withdrawing himself from camp activities." Hogan paused. "The Barracks Two Barber Shop Quartet just hasn't been the same without him." Hogan turned to Klink suddenly. "You are going to try to find him, aren't you?"  


"Hogan, he could be anywhere!"  


"He may still be in Hamelburg. Besides, what if some unsuspecting Gestapo officer decides to shoot first and ask questions later??"  


"The Colonel may be right Klink, as it is not highly publicized information," Hochstetter said.  


"Very well then Colonel Hogan, the Major and I will coordinate a search effort."  


"Thank you, Kommandant. Oh and when you find him and bring him back, may I talk to him?"  


"Of course, Colonel."  


Hogan nodded. "Thank you." He looked down at this hat for a moment and then up at Klink and Hochstetter. Without another word, he walked to the office door and let himself out. 

  
**Baron von Ushdergen's residence  
Potsdam, Germany (west of Berlin)  
February 3, 1944**

  
A fog in England kept most of the RAF bombers grounded for the night. This was a welcomed reprieve for people in Berlin and was appreciated by Peter and Serilda as well. Finding the small suburb of Berlin where the Baron's home was located was difficult enough in the dark and on bumpy, ill-maintained roads. They certainly didn't need to be dodging bombs as well.  


Peter, of course, had already been nearly knocked off his feet by Serilda in her simple yet elegant evening gown. Dark blue velvet, floor length with a scalloped neck line, low back and short sleeves, the dress looked stunning. She had swept her hair up in a French twist and the way she looked standing in the middle of her hotel room had caught Peter momentarily speechless.   
Serilda smiled at him.   


Peter blinked. "You....you look...great," he said, not being able to find a better word.   


"Thank you. You're looking very nice yourself."  


Peter look down at the black SS uniform he wore. "Eh, RAF dress uniform is much better looking." He smiled up at her.  


Serilda giggled. Peter picked up her overcoat from the chair and held it open for her. Serilda slipped her arms in and then turned to Peter. They looked at each other for a moment, Peter caught in her simple beauty, Serilda knowing exactly what he was looking at and finding an attraction to him that was difficult to deny.  


"Serilda..." Peter hesitated a moment. "I...I know this is probably a rotten time to say this but...."  


She touched a finger gently to his lips. "Then don't say it," she said softly. "I think I know what you're going to say anyway." She took her hand away from his face. "I...haven't forgotten that night you kissed me," she said softly.  


"I know you're resolved to the Underground and I respect that. But I have some strong feelings about you. I don't know if it's going to make me feel any better telling you about it but I would probably regret it if I didn't say anything. You're a lovely woman, Serilda. There's no denying that."  


She smoothed a hand over the lapel of his overcoat. "You are a charmer, Peter Newkirk."  


"I know. It's a serious character flaw." He grinned.  


She giggled and then looked at him in all seriousness. "I do like you, Peter. But I'm sure when this is all over, you'll forget me in time."  


"I don't think so," he said gazing into her eyes. "I don't think so...." Slowly he leaned to her and touched a kiss upon her lips. It wasn't like the night he kissed her in Hamelburg. That was more like a goodbye kiss, a reminder of him should they never see each other again. But this time was different. His lips, warm and soft against hers, spoke of his desire for her. He was asking not just to be remembered, but to be with her somehow still, when this was all over.   


Serilda's heart stirred in her chest. She felt his arms encircle her, drawing her closer to him, triggering a tingling feeling through her of both fire and misery.  


Peter felt something of the same thing. When the kiss ended and he looked into her eyes he saw what he felt in his own soul. He touched his hand softly to her cheek, a gesture of apology. Serilda turned her face toward his hand and then looked up at him.  


"We should get going..."  


He nodded and slowly she stepped away. Peter followed her out of the hotel room.

  
The Baron himself greeted his guests at the door of his estate, which thus far had been spared by the Allied bombing raids. He smiled at Peter and Serilda and chatted with them briefly before letting them inside. They explained they were from Dusseldorf, in town visiting family and friends and had heard of the Baron's open invitation to military personnel from Angus Marsden. The Baron smiled and told them Angus was the finest clockmaker in all of Germany and he welcomed them to the ball.  


Once inside the estate, they were relieved of their coats and they walked into the large and spacious front room, where several other guests were already gathered, talking and drinking. High ranking Luftwaffe, Wehrmacht and SS officers were present.   


A server came to them and offered champagne. They each took a glass and thanked the server before he left.  


"Considering how badly they're losing they sure know how to put on a party," Peter said quietly before taking a sip of his drink.   


"Baron von Ushdergen is a staunch supporter of the Furher and the Reich," Serilda explained. "Thus his permanent open invitation to all military members to attend any of the receptions he holds. It has been said that top level decisions have been made at these functions in the past."  


"Hmmm..." Peter casually sipped at his champagne and looked around as more people made their way into the front room. He saw Angus come in but hardly had time to tell Serilda. Two SS officers had come up to him to say hello.  


"Guten Abend," Peter replied. "Heil Hitler."  


"You'll have to forgive us for our curiosity," one of them said, "as we do not recognize you. Are you with the SS here in Berlin?"  


Peter shook his head. "Nein, I am from Duesseldorf."  


"Ah. What brings you to Berlin?"  


Peter and Serilda chatted conversationally with the two SS officers. Their curiosity could have just as easily have been an excuse for interrogation. After all, Peter nor Serilda were familiar faces and it was assumed that a series of regulars often attended the Baron's functions.  


Angus had made eye contact with Peter briefly upon entering and then saw Peter become distracted by the two inquiring SS officers. What Peter and Serilda didn't see was that Weisburg had come in directly behind Angus. The Baron cheerfully greeted Angus and they chatted briefly. Angus introduced Weisburg as a "friend" and the Baron then asked about the brother and sister.   


Angus didn't miss a beat. "Ah yes, they are old friends. They are on their way to Hamburg and I persuaded them to attend your function here this evening."  


The Baron smiled, genuinely. "Wonderful..." The more the merrier.  


Once the curiosity of the SS officers had been satisfied, they excused themselves, wishing Peter and Serilda a good evening. Peter and Serilda then made their way over to the table of hor'derves where they soon were met with Angus and Weisburg. Angus only said that the mutual contact had not arrived yet. That bought them time, but not much, to figure out how to lose Weisburg long enough to have a talk.  


The Baron officially started the festivities with a short speech and a toast to the victory of the Fatherland. The guests all raised their glasses and then the room was filled with the collective chime of glasses being tapped together.   


Peter turned to Serilda and flashed an indiscreet Winston Churchill V sign. She smiled, raised her glass to him and they silently toasted the victory of the Allies.  


The orchestra then began to play the first waltz. Peter turned to Serilda. Shall we dance?  


I'd love to.  


He led her out to the dance floor.  


Any ideas on how we talk to Marsden with that jackbooted right arm hangin' around? he asked.  


I don't know. I think we're going to have decoy him away or something. He probably follows Angus around to the men's room. Serilda paused. Maybe if I danced with Angus?"  


"That should work. As long as he can waltz and talk at the same time," Peter said and grinned.  


As they danced the rest of the waltz, Peter found himself content. Momentarily he forgot what uniform he was in, what city, what country and what war. A beautiful woman was dancing with him and he had no need to pay attention to anything else.  
When the music ended, everyone applauded and a few dispersed from the dance floor. Peter and Serilda walked to where Angus and Weisburg stood.  


Your friend has not arrived yet? Serilda asked.  


No. He is known to come late to these kind of functions. But he will be here fraulien, I guarantee.  


Well then, I believe we have time for another dance, Serilda said looking at Peter.  


I think I will sit this one out, he said. Perhaps Herr Marsden or Herr Weisburg will dance? You can't dance with your brother all night.  


Everyone chuckled. Serilda looked at Angus. The next waltz started to play. Herr Marsden?  


Marsden smiled and nodded. I would be honored. He turned his elbow out to her and Serilda hooked her arm around his and walked with him to the dance floor. Weisburg and Peter watched them go.  


You take a great risk, Weisburg said looking into his champagne glass.  


Don't we all? Peter replied. The decision to leave the Fatherland is my own and it is something I feel I must do.  


Weisburg nodded.  


On the dance floor, Serilda told Marsden what was really going on.   


He's not an SS officer. His name is Peter Newkirk and he's the RAF pilot you've accused of committing treason.  


It was not my willful intent, Marsden explained. I've been compromised by the Gestapo  


We know.  


Yes, but do you know that Weisburg is of the Gestapo? And having that RAF pilot pose as a defecting SS officer puts you both in danger. I am sure he has contacted his superiors.  


Serilda sighed. What were we supposed to do? We had to contact you somehow. Is he the only Gestapo man who has you under guard?  


Yes, and he follows me everywhere. And they are holding Gisela and the boys.  


There is only one guard there. Peter and I went to see her. Angus, we can get them out of Berlin if you will tell London that what you told them wasn't true.  


Can you get them out of Germany? To London?  


Of course.  


Then do so. I will trust that they are on their way by the morning. I will then take care of removing the cancer from the Underground in Berlin. And I will let London know what has gone terribly wrong here.  


What about you? We can probably get you out too-  


Marsden shook his head. I am not counting on that. After what happened to Hagen and OttoI may only find myself with the same fate. But Gisela and the boys, you must make sure they are safe.  


We will, Angus she said softly and then shook her head. Why have they done this? What is their purpose?  


I don't know. But after killing Hagen and Otto, Weisburg said that the treason charge against Peter Newkirk was the start of the end of the Underground.  


Who orchestrated it all? Weisburg?  


No. There is someone else he is reporting to and taking orders from. Whatever it is, Serilda, it will be stopped by tomorrow morning. Promise me, that you and Peter will see to it that Gisela and my boys are safely out of Germany and the grasp of the Nazi's.  


I promise you.  


The waltz ended and Serilda and Angus returned to where Weisburg and Peter stood.  


Thank you, Fraulein.  


Thank you, Herr Marsden.  


Angus looked around the crowd. He spotted his contact for getting people out of Germany. Ah, I believe our mutual friend has arrived. If you'll excuse me for just a moment. Angus walked away and surprisingly Weisburg didn't follow. But he kept his eye on him.  


Angus moved through the crowd and caught the eye of a dark haired man who smiled in recognition.  


Angus, good to see you once again. The men shook hands. Tho', I'm surprised that it would be here.   


Follow my lead, Angus said quietly. I'm in trouble.  


The man paused and nodded quickly. Of course.  


The two men walked back to Weisburg, Serilda and Peter. Introductions were made and the conversation was concise and the instructions were simple. The SS Reichslieutenant and his sister wished to leave Germany. The dark haired man followed in stride and nodded.  


It will be taken care of, he said.  


However, he knew that this arrangement was odd for several reasons. First, he did not know who Weisburg was. Second, he knew Serilda but couldn't figure why she was assuming a different identity. And lastly, Angus Marsden never used the Baron's ball for such an arrangement, which left the man to wonder just exactly what was going on.  


Of course, it all fooled Weisburg. At that moment he was a little more preoccupied with the idea that the SS officer wouldn't make it out of Germany and would be caught the next morning. Certainly that and being part of this crackdown on spies would make him look favorably to a promotion.  


When the clock ticked a few minutes past 10:30, Serilda expressed to Peter that she was ready to leave. Marsden's contact had left almost 15 minutes before but was waiting outside for when the Serilda and the SS officer would leave.  


Peter and Serilda gave the Baron their regards and appreciation for the open invitation. He thanked them, gave them well wishes and bid them good night. Their coats were brought to them and they walked out of the estate.  


Marsden's contact saw them and followed. When they reached the car he called to them.  


Psst! Serilda!  


Serilda gasped and Peter swung around, pulling his firearm from the holster.  


The man put his arms up. Serilda, it's me. Emil. He stepped closer, keeping his hands raised.   


It's okay, Peter, she said. Peter put the gun away and Emil put his hands down, stepping up to them.  


Serilda, what is going on? This is not one of Angus's usual arrangements.  


This is not one of your usual defections, Peter said.  


Emil blinked and looked at Serilda. He speaks English?  


I ought to. I _am_ English!  


Serilda laughed. Emil, why don't you get in the car and we'll explain everything to you. Angus is in trouble and we're going to need your help.  


Emil nodded.   


The three got into the car and Peter pulled onto the road. Serilda introduced Peter and then explained what was going on. She told Emil that they were now heading to Gisela's to get her and the children away from the Gestapo and then find a way to get them out of Germany.  


I can get them out tonight, Emil said. I have a car that will take them north. By six o'clock tomorrow morning they will be on their England.  


Peter exclaimed. They get out safely, Marsden tells London what's really going on, we go back to Hamelburg and I'm no longer considered a bloody traitor!  


Emil laughed and patted Newkirk's shoulder. It will all be worth it.  


I just wish we could have figured what exactly they were trying to pull, Serilda said. I like you very much Peter but I hardly see how accusing you of treason serves as the catalyst to destroy the entire Underground.  


No offense taken, Peter replied. At this point I really don't give a rot what they were up to. It'll be stopped as soon as Gisela and her children are out of Germany." 

  
**Berlin, Germany  
February 3, 1944**

Peter turned the car down the street to Angus and Gisela's home, turning the lights off. He put the car in neutral, clicked the engine off and let the car coast to the driveway.  


The home was dark, except for a light on the bottom floor. Peter, Serilda and Emil could see the Gestapo officer sitting in the parlor.  


Looks like he's dozing, Emil said.  


Peter studied the front of the building. Serilda, is there a back door to this place?  


  


All right, that should work. Emil, if you'll take the front door, I'll take the back. We'll get the drop on him one way or the other.  


  


Give me a minute or two to jimmy the lock if I have to. If he hears anything and starts to walk to the back, knock on the front.  


Got it.  


Serilda, if you see anybody come along that looks Gestapo you get yourself and this car out of here.  


  


Peter turned to Emil. There should be a flashlight or two in that bag next to you there Emil found the bag and opened it. He found a flashlight and handed it to Peter. They then got out of the car and quietly closed their doors. They looked at the Gestapo agent who was still dozing in the chair. Peter nodded to Emil and walked to the back side of the house. Emil waited, watching the street and the Gestapo agent through the window.   


Peter found the back door and pulled his lock pick kit from the inside pocket of his overcoat. Carefully he went to work. He worked the lock until it let go with a loud click. He cringed, paused and listened, holding his breath.  


Kohler had heard it too and was now awake and listening. He did not move from the chair at first and Emil couldn't tell that the man was awake. It was not until the Gestapo officer heard the door knob turn.   


Emil saw the officer get up and he quickly went to the door. He knocked on it and Kohler stopped, finding a knock on the door at this hour night peculiar, and with the noises from the back of the house heightening his senses, he withdrew his gun.  


Serilda saw this through the window and could do nothing but watch. And pray.  


Peter meanwhile, was stepping into the house. He clicked off the flashlight and found he was in a kitchen. A door way was lighted by the lamp from the parlor. He tucked his lock pick kit away and quietly closed the door. He then quickly and quietly moved to the hallway.  


The Gestapo man was at the front door opening it. He peered around the door keeping the gun ready but out of site.  


Emil looked surprised. I'm sorry, he said. I think I may have the wrong house.  


Peter was at the end of the hallway looking into the parlor. To his left was the front door and the Gestapo officer's back was to him.  


What house are you looking for? Kohler asked.  


Peter moved from the hall way to come up directly behind the man.  


Number 14, Emil said.  


Peter raised his flashlight and hit Kohler directly on base of the neck.  


And I think I found it, Emil said as the officer fell to the floor. He grinned at Peter.  


By this point Gisela had awoke and came to see what the noise was. She recognized both men as they dragged the Gestapo officer back into the parlor.  


Emil! Hans!  


Peter turned to Gisela. Can you pack up yourself and the children in less than 10 minutes?  


Gisela stammered.  


We don't have much time. Angus wants us to get you to England. He's going to close down the Underground here.  


she said softly. She turned and headed down the hall to wake up the boys and pack clothes.  


Emil and Peter paused, each man realizing that Gisela's entire world was suddenly being uprooted. There is the possibility, Emil said, that she may never see Angus again.  


Yeah, I just thought of that. Peter sighed. C'mon...let's see if we can give her a hand.  


They helped Gisela and the boys to pack up a few of their possessions and soon had them out in the car. Sturmscharführer Kohler was still unconscious when they left. 

  
Emil instructed Peter to drive north of Berlin to a small village where another car waited. They quickly transferred Gisela and the boy's bags to the other car and Gisela turned to Serilda and Peter.  


Will you see Angus again? she asked looking at both of them.  


Serilda hesitated. We don't know.  


Gisela nodded. I understand. He always told me that one day something could happen, I justalways hoped it wouldn't. 

She sighed and Serilda took her hand. Gisela looked up at them. If somehow you do see him, would you tell him that I love him very much and that I'm very proud of what he's done her voice faded as she held back her tears.  


Serilda squeezed her hand and Peter placed and gentle hand on her shoulder. We'll tell him, Serilda said, but I bet he already knows. She smiled at her and Gisela smiled too despite her tears.  


Emil came up to them and told them that the car had to leave soon to be North by the morning. Gisela hugged Serilda and Peter and thanked them for what they had done. She then wished them well in their return to Hamelburg. Peter and Serilda watched her get into the car and then the car pulled away, slowly, disappearing into the night.  


They didn't say anything to one another. They only turned and walked back to their car. 

  
~End Part Two~

Part Three


	3. OHF: Chapter Three

**Das Birken Hotel  
Berlin, Germany  
February 4, 1944 **

  
Early the next morning, Peter and Serilda were both up early hoping to make a quick exodus of Berlin. They had accomplished most of what they came for, but they still didn't have much of an answer for the treason charge. Peter felt assured by Marsden's words at the party that the charge would be taken care of. But he was still bothered for an answer as to why the Gestapo put through such information and on him specifically.  


He washed quickly, combed his hair and dressed into the SS uniform for what he hoped was the last time. He stood in front of the vanity and straightened his neck tie. The knock on the door made him stop.  


It was too early for a chambermaid and Serilda, being in the room next to him, always used the adjoining door. Peter was certainly not expecting any visitors this morning.  


"Einen Augeblick, bitte!" _Just a moment, please!_ Peter put on the uniform jacket, buttoned it and went to the door to greet his visitors.  


His "visitors" were four men from the Gestapo. The shortest of the four wore the highest rank as Captain and he looked at Peter with smugness.  


"Guten Morgen," Peter said. "Kannikh hilfe Sie?" _Can I help you?_  


"We'd like to talk to you for a moment, Herr Reichslieutenant. May we come in?"  


Something was wrong. However, Peter nodded, having no choice and opened the door wider to let the men in. The last one closed the door and the three looked around the room as the Captain kept a steady eye on Newkirk.  


"I apologize for the early morning hour, Herr Reichslieutenant but I had to make sure you were still here in Berlin. You've been very hard to find for the past few days."  


"I keep busy," Peter said. Despite his retort, he couldn't help the sinking feeling he was about to be arrested.  


"Yes...you certainly do. In fact, you were seen speaking to a known Underground agent about the possibility of _leaving_ the Fatherland. I'm sure you understand, Herr Reichslieutenant that this is very disturbing and we cannot allow for it to happen." The Captain made eye contact with one of the other officers who moved into position behind Newkirk.  


Serilda, meanwhile, was listening to the voices from Peter's room at the adjoining door. Quietly she opened the door just enough to see the four Gestapo men surrounding Peter.   


"You've also been keeping company with a young lady we would like to talk to as well." The Captain smirked. "I'm afraid she would be a bad influence on any young men here in Berlin..."  


"You're doing a lot of talking, Herr Captain," Peter said. "But you haven't really told me why you're here."  


"Of course, I should have stated my official intent at the start. You're under arrest, Herr Reichslieutenant, for treason against the Fatherland!"  


Peter was suddenly held in the grips of two of the officers. He resisted momentarily and the two officers tightened their grips, meaning business.  


The Captain grinned. "And the young woman who has been traveling with you is a spy and she will be _dealt_ with..." He made a motion with his hand for the third officer to go to the adjoining door.  


Serilda vacated the door and hastily grabbed her carry bag off the bed, running out of her room.  


"NO!" Peter struggled against the hold but the two Gestapo officers held tight and then yanked his arms behind him. The Captain looked amused.  


"She will be treated well, Herr Reichslieutenant."  


Peter swore in German and kicked one of his captors in the shin. "Serilda! Get out of here!!"  


The third officer ignored the commotion behind him and marched onto the door. He quickly threw the door opened and charged into the room. He found the room empty but saw the door to the hall way was hanging opened. He ran back to tell the Captain.  
Peter, however, would hear nothing. His struggle with the two officers ended quickly when one took the butt end of his Luger and knocked Peter on the back of the head.  


The Captain watched the Reichslieutenant go limp in the grips of his two officers then turned to receive the news. He instructed two of his men to get to the exits of the hotel before the woman did. He and the remaining officer would search the rooms. The two officers carried Peter to the bed to leave him and cleared out quickly.

  
Serilda's heart had caught in her chest when she heard Peter call out. She stopped her run down the hall and looked back, part of her begging to go back. The other part screamed to run away. _Serilda! Get out of here!_  


Fear commanded her and she went back to running down the hall, heading toward the backside of the hotel. She zipped around another corner, caught the looks of a couple of chambermaids but kept running. Not long after, the chambermaids saw the Gestapo officer go running past them.   


Serilda spotted the elevator and the door for the stairs. The elevator door was just closing, she would end up trapped in the stair well because if the officer figured she had just got on the elevator, he'd take the stairs. She looked around the hall way furiously and saw a door marked for employees. She rushed to it and opened it, finding a dark utility closet. She slipped inside and closed the door quickly.   


The Gestapo officer came around the corner and saw the elevator was just beginning it's decent. He immediately took to the stairs. Serilda opened the door a crack and watched as the stair way door closed. She then closed the door again and found the light of the closet.   


She put her carry bag down and rummaged through it. She found a kerchief and pair of sunglasses. She quickly tucked her hair up in a hasty bun, put the sunglasses on and then wrapped the kerchief around her head, tying it under her chin. She looked a Hollywood starlet trying to outfox the paparazzi. She hoped it would work to outfox the Gestapo. She pulled her light weight trenchcoat out and put it on, turning the collar up.   


She shut the light off and then open the door a crack, peeking out to the hallway. Carefully she opened it wider and found the hallway empty. She briskly walked down the hall looking for another stairwell at the backside of the hotel.  


She found one, which brought her out directly in back of the hotel. She tried to appear calm and natural, even though her heart was still racing. She had to get to the car and go to...somewhere. But where? She couldn't drive back to Hamelburg alone. How was she going to get a message to Colonel Hogan that things had gone terribly wrong?  


She walked with these questions pounding in her head. _Oh Peter..._ The thought of what could happen to him tore her apart. _Forgive me... _  


When she came to the front corner of the hotel she peered around to the street. Another Gestapo car pulled up to the curb and two additional officers step out. The car she and Peter had driven in was already under guard by a Gestapo officer. She would obviously have to make her way on foot from now on.   


She continued to watch the scene, glancing behind her occasionally and wondering where exactly was she going to go now. Movement by the front doorway of the hotel brought her attention back and she watched as the Gestapo carried Peter bodily out to one of the cars. The sight caught her breath and she brought her hand to her face. Although she was fairly sure that Peter wasn't dead, as the Gestapo wouldn't have permitted their vehicles to be used as hearses, she felt no more comfortable with the idea of Peter being in their custody.  


She turned and hurriedly walked away from the hotel, swallowing tears...

  
About the same time the Gestapo was knocking on Peter's hotel room door, Angus was in the midst of battle with Lt. Weisburg at his Underground meeting location. The Gestapo lieutenant had been taken by surprise when Angus suddenly and without preamble, lashed out and struck Weisburg across the face. The Lieutenant staggered back in surprise and then realized that Marsden was obviously looking to terminate the coerced partnership. Weisburg could make no effort to go for his gun, because Angus had followed up on the strike by immediately going for the Luger. The two men struggled, Weisburg trying to push Marsden away form him with one hand and grab for his gun with the other. They scuffled for a moment, Marsden had the Luger in his grip but Weisburg pushed him back and they both went into the table where the radio set was located.   


The table wobbled and Angus turned the motion of the fight to his advantage. He turned himself and Weisburg, pinning Weisburg to the table and with a swift motion of his knee to Weisburg's stomach, stunned the Lieutenant long enough to pull the Luger away.  


Although finding it difficult to breathe, Weisburg wasn't about to let Marsden use the gun on him. He lunged at Angus and reached for the gun, forcing it to point outward. Angus discharged a shot with the motion and fought with Weisburg, who grabbed at the gun enough to expelling two more bullets. Angus finally pushed Weisburg back, sending him back into the table and knocking other electronics onto the floor.   


Hand held radios and tracking devices smashed upon the floor and Weisburg nearly went down himself. Angus turned the Luger to point at Weisburg and pulled the trigger. But the gun was empty. It did nothing more than click.  


Weisburg turned back to face Angus, who threw the empty gun back at the Gestapo Lieutenant. As Weisburg deflected the gun, Angus bolted for the door. The gun clattered on the floor and Weisburg followed after him.  


Angus leapt up the stairs and ran down the alley way to the street. Weisburg followed, shouting for Angus to stop. The chase went down the sidewalk and Weisburg's shouts of _Halt!_ did nothing to help him or stop Angus. No one in the neighborhood, if they were witnessing the chase at all, was making any moves to assist either man.   


Little did Angus know, he had someone out there who would help him. Angus negotiated the snow and ice and nearly slipped on a patch but caught himself and quickly found cobblestone to run upon. Weisburg, would not be so lucky. He hit the ice too and slipped a little, but the jerk of his upper body told a different story as he went down. He collapsed in a heap upon the ice and slid about an inch, coming to a final stop.  


Angus stopped and turned to look. He stared at the Gestapo officer laying still upon the ice and then looked around the neighborhood. He saw nothing in the windows or doorways. Cautiously, he walked toward Weisburg but not directly to him. Angus looked at the officer as he passed and noticed no movement at all. Angus figured Weisburg slipped on the ice and fell enough to knock himself out. What he didn't know, was that a silent bullet had taken the Gestapo officer down.  


And the gun that bullet had come from belonged to the bartender of the haufbrau, Bruno, who watched carefully from his apartment window as Angus ran back in the direction of the Underground meeting place.

  
**Gestapo Headquarters  
Berlin, Germany  
February 4, 1944**

Peter came to later in a Gestapo interrogation room. They had laid him face down on the cold cement floor and three ranking Gestapo officers had waited patiently for him to awaken.  


He stirred slightly and felt the dull ache in his head before he realized he was laying down. Slowly, he moved to get up, not realizing he wasn't alone.  


The Gestapo men let him get as far as his hands and knees before grabbing by his arms and lifting him into a chair. This startled Peter and he let out a yelp, while whatever fog was left in his consciousness was lifted. The ache of the back of his head, however, intensified.  


The two Gestapo men stepped away from the chair he was sitting in and Peter looked up at the third officer, who stood in the middle of the room across from him, one boot up on another chair. It was the same Captain who had arrested him.  


"What is your name?"  


It took Peter a moment to find his voice. He cleared his throat. "Hans von Dashden, SS Reichslieutenant."  


"Why are you here in Berlin?"  


"I'm trying to locate my sister's fiancé. He disappeared over two weeks ago."  


"Why were you talking to Herr Marsden and inquiring about leaving Germany as a defector?"  


"Because it's possible my sister's fiancé' took the same route. Or was trying to take the same route."  


"What's his name?"  


"Hagen Weiss."  


"SS?"  


"Ja."  


"Hmm...." the Captain lifted his foot of the chair and walked up to Peter. "Your story would be quite convincing accept for the fact that the SS has no record of your existence. There is no Wehrstammbuch on a Hans von Dashden of the SS in Dueselldorf or anywhere in the Third Reich. So, I ask again..._what is your name?_"  


Peter swallowed. "Hans von Dashden--"  


The Captain gave Peter a violent back handed swipe. "How dare you defy me! There is no Hans von Dashden of the SS! You will tell me who you really are, why you are in Berlin and why you were talking to Angus Marsden!"  


Peter said nothing but the look behind his eyes burned in rage. He looked down at the Captain's boots and spit on them.  


"Argh!!!" the Captain lashed out at Peter again, striking him across the face, swearing at him in German. "Perhaps you think the SS will be more tolerant of you! Take him out of here!!"  


The two other officers grabbed up Peter from the chair and hauled him out of the interrogation room. They pushed him down a hallway and down a flight of stairs to a lock up. He was pushed into a cell of four concrete walls, no windows, a metal door and a dirt floor, landing unceremoniously on the floor in a heap. The door banged shut behind him.   


His ironic fate settled uneasily in his gut. He would more than likely be executed by the SS as a traitor...just as he had finally proved to London that he wasn't a traitor to the Allies. And Serilda. What had happened to her? Where was she? He prayed she had not been caught by the Gestapo but deep down, he doubted that. And lastly, why did this whole mess ever even start? What as the Gestapo's plan for him to have to be accused of treason?  


And what of Colonel Hogan and the others? What would happen now?  
  
  
**Berlin, Germany  
February 4, 1944**

Serilda headed back to the side of Berlin where the Underground meeting place was located. What drew her there, she wasn't sure. Surely she wouldn't find Marsden or anyone for that matter. If anything the place would be empty or destroyed.  
But there was no other place to go in Berlin. And with no car, she couldn't leave on her own, unless she took a train to Dusseldorf. But leaving Peter behind bothered her. She felt that somehow she had to find a way to help him, despite knowing that pulling him from the clutches of the Gestapo was impossible. Added to that the fact that they were looking for her too. Her options were limited.   


She hurried down the sidewalk and turned to the corner at the alleyway, keeping her pace quick. She came to the backside of the building and saw the stairwell that went down to a door. Cautiously, she stepped down the steps.  


She could hear noises from behind the wooden door. Figuring she had come while the Gestapo was ripping the place apart, she held her breath and chanced a look through the dirty window.  


Inside, however, was not a Gestapo officer, but Angus himself. He was moving quickly, loading papers and maps into a box next to the radio that was now dismantled. Other electronic gadgets lay in pieces on the table or floor.  


Relieved to see him, Serilda knocked and opened the door. Angus, it's me. Serilda.  


Startled, Angus stopped what he was doing and turned to the doorway. He smiled at her and came to her, embracing her.  


I did not expect to find you here, she said.  


I honestly did not expect to make it back it here, he answered. He gestured to the smashed pieces of electronics on the floor. 

Weisburg put up a fight, I then escaped on foot and he chased after me down the street. He slipped on a sheet of ice and fell, pretty hard. He did not move even when I came back to pass him.  


Is he dead?  


I don't know, I didn't stop to check for sure. I hurried back here to radio to London and get rid of this stuff so as not to allow the Allies to be compromised any more. London will be dropping the treason charge against Peter Newkirk. He smiled.  


That's great, Serilda said, but the enthusiasm had to struggle to show.  


Just before I dismantled the radio, Emil contacted me and said Gisela and the boys are safely on their way to England. He said he can get me to Switzerland and then to EnglandSerilda? What's wrong?  


I'm sorry, Angus. The Gestapo arrested Peter this morning before we could leave the hotel. And they're looking for me too! They took the car, I have no way to get out of Berlin!  


Angus shook his head. I will get you out of Berlin, he said and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. And we will try to do what we can for Peter. Help me finish putting this stuff together to be destroyed and we will go.  


  
  
  
**Gestapo Headquarters  
Berlin, Germany  
February 4, 1944**

Major Hans Teppel of the Obeveur, or SS Intelligence, looked like an aristocratic, Aryan, loyal and even somewhat arrogant German. He was approximately 55 years of age and looked as such that he lived comfortably. His graying hair matched the gray of his uniform and overcoat and he walked with a sense of importance. He spoke fondly of a childhood in Bavaria, had over 10 years in the German military, was shrewd, intelligent and decorated for his service to the Reich.  


He was also a pretty damn good actor. Nobody in the Obeveur knew that Hans Teppel was really Roger Morris, who had grown up not in Bavaria, but in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. And nobody knew that Hans Teppel was really an intelligence agent for the American OSS as opposed to the German SS.  


As such, Tepple knew of Angus Marsden and the two had worked together several times. When Marsden suddenly could no longer be contacted, Teppel became concerned. Given his rank and position with the SS, Tepple couldn't go out looking for Marsden. He could only wait.  


When the Gestapo called to say they had an SS officer in custody, a possible defector who had been seen speaking to Angus Marsden recently, Teppel took it upon himself to claim the prisoner and pick him up, hoping maybe to get some kind of answers as to Marsden's current whereabouts.  


Teppel of course, had no idea what he was to find when he got to Gestapo Headquarters. He maintained a look a of disgust at the idea that an SS officer would be looking to defect, and followed the guard down a hall. They arrived at a cell door, which was unlocked for the Major.   


Teppel looked in and saw the man lying upon the dirt floor. He looked at the guard. "I will be okay. I will call for you when I'm ready."  


"Jawohl, Herr Major." The guard stepped back and Teppel walked into the cell. The metal door banged shut behind him and Teppel stepped toward the prisoner.  


Newkirk curled inward more. _Go away! Leave me alone, just go away!_  


Teppel kneeled down, finding the prisoner looked vaguely familiar.  


"Look at me."  


Newkirk didn't move right away and Teppel grabbed the lapels of Peter's jacket and pulled on them. "Look at me!"  


Fearing reprisal, Newkirk flinched and tried to raise his arms in defense. He turned his head to look at the Major and instantly the two men recognized one another.  


"Maj--Major Teppel."  


"What is--what are you doing _here?_" Teppel hissed. He looked at Newkirk's dirtied SS uniform. "What is going on?? What are you doing here in Berlin?" He glanced toward the door and then back at Peter. "Is Colonel Hogan and the others here?" he asked, very softly not wanting the guard outside the door to hear.  


"No..." Newkirk meekly shook his head. "I'm in bloody trouble this time..."  


Teppel adjusted his grip on Newkirk's jacket and assisted the Englishman to sit upon the floor. Seeing his face more clearly in the light, Teppel finally came up with a name.  


"You are Newkirk."  


Peter nodded.  


"Parading around Berlin as a defecting SS officer is not exactly a wise thing to be doing nowadays."  


"I didn't have much choice," Peter replied. "The bloody Gestapo took over Angus Marsden's group and started feeding false information to London."  


Teppel paused. "So that's why I haven't been able to find him." He looked at Peter. "What kind of false information?"  


"A bloody treason charge against me, for one thing. I'm came here to find out what's going on."  


"Alone?"  


"No." Peter paused. _Where was Serilda?_ "No, I came with an Underground agent."  


"Where is he?"  


"She." He looked at the Major. "I don't know where she is. We were both staying at DAs Birken hotel in Berlin. The Gestapo busted down my door this morning. I don't know if they found her or not. I hope they _didn't_."  


"They made no indication to me that they did." Teppel paused. "How did the Gestapo figure Marsden out?"  


"I don't know, but they were holding his family and he had a Kraut following him around all the time. That's how I got busted. Serilda and I made contact with Marsden as brother and sister looking to defect. The story I gave the Gestapo was that we were looking for her missing fiancé."  


Teppel nodded. "That's what they told me. Where's Marsden now?"  


"I don't know. Probably telling the Kraut where to stuff his swatzika. Serilda and I sprung his wife and kids last night. They're on their way to England." Peter paused. "Sir, I'm sure there's nothing you can do for me. But if possible, can you make sure they didn't get Serilda?"  


"I'm going to make sure the Gestapo doesn't _keep_ you. If they were trying to paint you a traitor and then they find out you're here, it may put a damper on their plans."  


"Whatever their plans are."  


"All the same, I'm having you placed under SS custody. You'll be my prisoner and declared an internal matter. You're identity is unconfirmed because you're working under top secret orders." Teppel paused. "More or less I'm doing this to get you _out_ of Berlin."  


"But sir--"  


"I will try to find what happened to her. But you have been caught by the Gestapo. They don't know you're Peter Newkirk of the RAF but when they find out you may end up a dead RAF pilot."  


"Better that than a dead defecting SS officer."

  
**Stalag 13  
February 4, 1944**  
  
Colonel Hogan, Kinch and LeBeau were down in the tunnel, listening to the beeps and clicks from the code radio. Kinch scribbled the message down, acknowledged receiving back to London and then tore the paper off the pad. He handed it to the Colonel.  


Hogan read the message. "They're dropping the treason charge," he announced with a smile.  


"All right! That means Newkirk made it," LeBeau said.  


"Yeah. Marsden's closing up shop and getting out of Berlin."  


"Newkirk should be back here in a couple of days then," Kinch said.  


"All we have to do is get rid of Hochstetter," LeBeau said. "Otherwise it will be difficult to get him back into camp."  


Hogan nodded. "Kinch, send a message to the Underground in Hamelburg, let Dr. Weinstein know that Newkirk should be back in a couple of days. Tell them we've got Hochstetter hanging around here and the situation's iffy and we might not be able to get Newkirk back into camp right away."  


Kinch nodded and started transmitting.  


"How are we going to get him back into camp, Hochstetter or no?" LeBeau asked.  


"I'm thinking have it look like Newkirk was trying to escape and was using the defection angle as a cover. The hard part is explaining how he managed to be out for so long and end up only being caught in Hamelburg."  


"Just say he was home sick for Stalag 13."  


Hogan smirked.  


"Colonel!" Carter called down from the barracks above. "Hochstetter's back and he's brought the radio truck!"  


Hogan looked at Kinch, who nodded. He ended the transmission and shut the radio off. "Short and sweet, Colonel. It went through."  


"All right, let's get back up there."  


The three climbed up the ladder and returned to the barracks. From the window, Hogan looked out on the compound and saw the truck parked just inside the gate.  


"For somebody who's looking for Newkirk to be a new member of the Nazi party, Hochstetter's not exactly rolling out the welcome mat," Carter said.  


"No," Hogan agreed. "There's no doubt now. He's looking for us."   
  
  
**Berlin, Germany  
February 4, 1944**

The box of papers that Angus packaged was carried to another part of the building where a fireplace was located. A fire was already burning and Angus instructed Serilda to place the papers into the fire. She did so, as Angus went back to complete the destruction of the radio and the other electronic equipment. He then carried various components from that to the fireplace as well and added them to the fire.  


That's everything, he said. Serilda dropped the last of the maps and documents into the fire. The electronic components smoldered and sparked and were rendered useless. Satisfied that everything was effectively destroyed Angus proceeded to extinguish the fire.   


"By the time any of this is discovered, we will be long gone," Angus said. "Come, we must move quickly..."

  
Major Teppel left SS Headquarters and drove to Kessler Park. The late afternoon sun shone over Berlin and the park had a fair amount of people, walking, sitting on the benches and conversing with one another. A small group of children played in the snow. Teppel walked to a park bench where a man dressed in a gray SS uniform sat with a woman. The man stood up and saluted. Teppel returned the salute and then stepped in closer.  


"I have to admit I'm surprised to see you at all," Teppel said. "I heard what happen with the Gestapo. I figured you'd be a dead man."  


"Not that I didn't come close to it," Angus replied. "Teppel, this is Serilda Bachman she is with the Underground in Hamelburg. She came here with Peter Newkirk, of Colonel Hogan's group to help me out. Only now the Gestapo has arrested Herr Newkirk, thinking he is of the SS...."  


"Who's now in my custody."  


"He is?" Marsden said.  


"Is he okay, Major?" Serilda asked.  


"Yes, he is fine." Teppel smiled. "Although he's wondering the same thing about you."  


Serilda blushed.   


"He gave the Gestapo a hard enough time that they called me. I took him into SS custody and declared him an internal matter, top secret. That covers me long enough until I can figure how to get him out of Berlin and back to Stalag 13."  


"Why not have the three of us, Angus, Peter and myself go to Switzerland?" Serilda asked. "And from there, England?"  


"Normally I would recommend that," Teppel said. "But I am thinking of the continuity of Colonel Hogan's operations at Stalag 13. I don't know under what circumstances Newkirk got out of camp and whether or not he is expected back. To ship him off to England may jeopardize things."  


"How do you plan to find out those circumstances?" Angus asked.  


"I will go to Stalag 13 under the guise that I am to question some of the prisoners. I've done this before. I will talk to Colonel Hogan and find out what is going on."  


"May I come with you?" Serilda asked.  


"Fraulien, it may be best if you go with Angus to Switzerland."  


"Please?" she said. "For Peter's sake. I want to see that he is returned back to Stalag 13 safely and with the honor of his country restored..."  


Teppel looked at Serilda for a moment and the nodded. "Very well. You may come with me."  


"Thank you, Herr Major."   
  
  
**Rosholt Hotel  
Berlin, Germany  
February 4, 1944**

Having been declared an internal matter and top secret, Peter found he was basically being treated as an undercover SS officer. Teppel had provided Peter with a clean SS uniform, a new Soldbuch and documents with a different name and placed him up at the Rosholt Hotel for the time being.   


Peter counted his blessings for being found by Major Teppel and not someone else, who would have not hesitated at seeing him executed. But as he looked out of his hotel window at the city of Berlin, he thought of Serilda and where she was. All the worse possible things he could think of that could happen to her ran through is mind. God, he hoped she hadn't been captured. But if she had....  


He closed his eyes and hung his head. Teppel said he would try to find out what happened to her, but deep down Peter's aching heart told him the possibility of finding her was slim.  


Little did he know that the Major would be bringing him a visitor. After a moment, he turned away from the window and sat down by the coffee table. He pulled the pack of smuggled in English cigarettes from his jacket pocket and removed one, lighting it.   


On the street below, Teppel pulled up in his car with Serilda. A few minutes later they were on the second floor and outside Peter's hotel room door. Teppel knocked and then opened the door part way.  
Peter looked up toward him.  


"Herr Dousman, I have a visitor for you..." Teppel smiled and pushed the door open, standing back to let Serilda into the room first.  


"Serilda...!" Peter sprung out of the chair and gathered Serilda into a welcoming and happy embrace. "Thank God you're all right!" he said.  


"Thank God _you_ are all right," she said and giggled in relief.   


"Both of you are very fortunate," Teppel said. "As is Angus Marsden."  


"Where is he now?" Peter asked.  


"On his way to Switzerland," Teppel said. "I suggested that Serilda go with him, but she insisted on finding you."  


Peter looked at her. "You probably should have gone with him."  


"I couldn't. I want to make sure you get back to Stalag 13 and that England does not see you as a traitor anymore."  
Peter was about to argue it when Teppel spoke up. "It is too late now, Newkirk. She is here. The task at hand now is getting the two of you back to Hamelburg."  


Peter nodded. "Yes sir."  


"I'm thinking to go to Stalag 13 in the next couple of days to "question" Colonel Hogan. The both of you will come with me, as my driver and secretary. I want to know how you got out of camp so that we can figure way to get you back in."  


"Okay..."

  
After Teppel left, Newkirk ordered dinner for two to be delivered to his room. It was the first decent meal he and Serilda had had for several days and they took the time to enjoy it. Based on the cuisine served at Stalag 13, Peter often griped that he didn't care for German food. But the hot plate of Sauerbraten (beef roast, marinated with herbs and braised in rich sauce) served with potato dumplings was quickly turning Peter's opinion. He left nothing on the plate, much to Serilda's amusement.  


"German food agrees with you, JA?"  


He grinned. "When you're hungry and there's a hot plate of good smelling food in front of you, who cares where it's from."  
Serilda laughed.   


Peter took a sip of his wine but his eyes never left Serilda. She blushed under his gaze and picked up her wine glass. Peter found the look of her in the candlelight alluring and his feelings about her stirred stronger. He knew better. He shouldn't have been attracted to her like this because he knew when this was all over he would only end up with a broken heart. As would she. But denying his feelings was impossible. And trying to fight those feelings with her sitting across from him, her face a glow in the soft candlelight and then her eyes slowly turning up to look at him...it was a hopeless battle.   


He placed his wine glass down and stood up, reaching a hand out to her, which she took and did so for all the same reasons he had reached to her. She knew she should resist, she knew, as did he that if it went any further, if they were to whisper words of love to one another, there was nothing guaranteeing any future. But it was like a spell, every time she looked into those blue/green eyes it was a blow to her resistance. When he kissed her, before the Barron's ball, and she found herself in his strong embrace there was little left to resist him with.   


Now he gently pulled her to him, holding her close like a couple slow dancing but there was no music. He then touched his fingers to her chin, lifting her face to him.   


"Tell me it's not hopeless...?" he whispered, searching her eyes.   


"I don't know.... Peter, we both know we're caught in it. We both know what could or could not happen. There's no guarantee about tomorrow..."  


"I don't care about tomorrow. I only care about right now. I only care that you're here with me, now...." his fingers traced across her cheek to her hair. "Let's not think about tomorrow...." His tender kiss made Serilda forget all about tomorrow.   
  
  
**Gestapo Headquarters  
Dusseldorf, Germany  
February 5, 1944**

The next morning, Weisburg's final notes and a report from Sturmscharführer Kohler, the guard that had been assigned to watch Angus Marsden's family, were delivered by courier to Major Hochstetter. He read through Weisburg's final notes and sighed. How had it all unraveled? Weisburg was now dead, Kohler had been knocked unconscious and the family had fled and Angus Marsden himself had disappeared. The only connection Hochstetter had to those events was an SS officer named Hans von Dashden.   


And just who the hell was Hans von Dashden? The additional report from Gestapo headquarters in Berlin on von Dashden's arrest gave little information, only that the Reichslieutenant had been uncooperative, and although he admitted to having talked to Angus Marsden, his reasons as to why could not be corroborated. And the reports from Weisburg and Kohler conflicted. The woman traveling with von Dashden was his sister, according to Weisburg. In Kohler's report, she was his fiancé. Both reports, however, described the woman's physical appearance the same.  


Hochstetter pondered this a moment. He wondered, on the off chance, if Hans von Dashden was really Peter Newkirk. The coincidence fit. Newkirk was nowhere to be found in Dusseldorf or Hamelburg. An Underground operative would have known where to find Gisela and from there, find where Angus was. And the whole idea of the plan was to flush Colonel Hogan out. If Hochstetter grabbed one of the Colonel's men, exposing the whole operation should be easy....   


Hochstetter picked up the phone beside him and asked the operator to be connected to SS Headquarters in Berlin. After connecting he announced himself and the nature of his inquiry. He was then directed to Major Hans Teppel.  


"Guten Tag, Herr Major," Teppel greeted. "What can I do for you?"  


"I hope you can help me, Herr Major. I understand that an SS officer that was arrested by the Gestapo in Berlin yesterday is now in your custody. SS Reichslieutenant Hans von Dashden?"  


"JA, but the matter concerning von Dashden is classified. It is an....internal matter." Teppel paused. "How do you know about von Dashden, Major, and what specifically are you inquiring about?"  


"Von Dashden was seen talking to Angus Marsden and he was reported by one of my men, who has since been killed. I am attempting to break up an Underground sabotage operation and I think von Dashden is a member of that operation, by a different name."  


"What name?"  


"Peter Newkirk. An RAF pilot being held prisoner at LuftStalag 13 in Hamleburg. Who is not there as we speak. He allegedly became ill, was taken to the hospital in Hamelburg but is not there either. I think Hans Von Dashden and Peter Newkirk are one in the same."  


"Major, are you saying there are Allied POW's committing sabotage against the Third Reich from _inside_ a LuftStalag camp?"  


"JA I have documentation of such activities. I just have to catch _one_ of them and I can bring the whole operation down."  


"Interesting....however, Major, I can confirm that von Dashden was seen talking to Angus Marsden but he has never been part of any sabotage operation. For one thing, the man does not speak English."  


"Hmm....would it be possible, Herr Major, to see the prisoner? I need not have to ask him any questions, but if he looks like who I think he looks like, I will be asking _you_ some questions..."  


Teppel, appropriately, took offense. "Are you implying, Herr Major, that I, as a loyal German and SS officer, am harboring enemies of the Fatherland??"  


"I am merely following all my leads. If he does not look like Peter Newkirk, than I will have no further concern for him."  


"Well then Major, he is being held here in Berlin at SS Headquarters. Come when it is convenient for you, I will show you to the prisoner."  


"I will be there tomorrow."

  
**SS Headquarters  
Berlin, Germany  
February 5, 1944**

Major Teppel about had a fit when he hung up the phone after speaking to Major Hochstetter. Not only did the Gestapo Major know of Colonel Hogan's operations at Stalag 13, he was taking a damn well educated guess on Peter Newkirk's current whereabouts. Thankfully, for both his sake and Peter's, he had provided Newkirk with a different identity. But now he had to find somebody to be Hans von Dashden long enough to throw the Gestapo hound dog off the trail.  


Teppel was also rethinking his trip to Stalag 13. Certainly if Hochstetter were to find out, he'd question it but Teppel could explain that it was on an unrelated matter and that the timing just happened to be coincidence. Hochstetter would still be suspicious, but Teppel could think of no other way to get a warning to Colonel Hogan and be able to assess the situation first hand. And he figured the Colonel was going to need all the help he could get. 

  
**Rosholt Hotel  
Berlin, Germany  
February 5, 1944**

Not twenty minutes after Major Teppel received Major Hochstetter's call, Teppel was standing outside Newkirk's hotel room.   


"I've discovered the who and the why for this whole mess that you're in," Teppel said as soon as Newkirk opened the door. The Major stepped in quickly and Newkirk shut the door.  


Serilda was sitting by the coffee table and stood up as Teppel turned to Peter.   


"Does the name Wolfgang Hochstetter, Gestapo Major, mean anything to you?" he asked.  


"Hochstetter? He's only the bane of Stalag 13."  


"Well he's looking to close down the Colonel's operation. And I think you were the randomly picked first domino that had to fall."  


Peter blanched. "He hasn't busted the Colonel, has he?"  


"Not yet. But he knows you're not at the hospital in Hamelburg. The two Gestapo officers that infiltrated Angus's operation were working under his orders. They filed reports and he knows everything that's happened. He's also guessed that Hans von Dashden is you."  


Serilda gasped and Peter took a step back and sat down. "The dirty rotten Kraut..."  


"Luckily for you and myself, you have a different identity. But I have to find somebody to be von Dashden for a spell."  


"Why?"  


"Because Hochstetter's coming here tomorrow. He wants to see if the prisoner I have looks like Peter Newkirk."  


Peter closed his eyes and drew in a heavy sigh. "I can't believe Hochstetter's this close to figuring us out," he said as Serilda sat down beside him on the couch. "We've always thrown him off for years." He looked up at Teppel. "How did he know?"  


"I'm not sure, but he said he had documentation of what all of you have been doing."  


"Terrific..." Peter muttered.  


"Major Hochstetter has been the bane of Underground agents in Hamelburg and Duesseldorf as well," Serilda said. "If he has plans to ruin Colonel Hogan's operation, there is no telling where he will stop."  


"What do we do now?" Peter asked.  


"Get you and Serilda back to Hamelburg. I'm still going to go to Stalag 13 to see how much the Colonel is aware of."  
Peter nodded.  


"We'll stop him," Teppel said. "The Colonel is crafty and I may be able to help by putting some official pressure on Hochstetter. Keep in mind, he could be bluffing."  


"I don't think so sir," Peter said. "He's holding most of the aces right now."

  
**SS Headquarters  
Berlin, Germany  
February 6, 1944**

Major Teppel spent most of the night working in solitude swapping von Dashden's fake Soldbuch and other forged documents with another prisoner's identification, temporarily. By the morning, a new file on Hans von Dashden had been prepared and Teppel had it with him when the Gestapo Major arrived around mid afternoon.  


"Hmm...." was all Hochstetter said for comment as he examined the papers and the Soldbuch. He studied the photograph in the Soldbuch, certainly not finding any likeness to the Englishman he was hoping to see.   


As promised, Teppel showed Hochstetter to the prisoner's cell, and the man behind the bars matched the photo in the Soldbuch. Hochstetter scrutinized the prisoner, trying to find something that looked even vaguely like Peter Newkirk. Naturally, the prisoner looked back at Hochstetter with reserve, wondering why the Gestapo was suddenly interested in him. Hochstetter dismissed the look as wariness, considering von Dashden's recent history with the Gestapo.  


As much as he looked, however, the man looked nothing like Peter Newkirk. Hochstetter turned to Teppel in obvious disappointment.  


"Obviously this is not the man I was looking for..."  


Teppel nodded. "I'm sorry I could not be of further help to you, Herr Major."  


"Hmmm..." Hochstetter turned and walked down the hall. Teppel looked at the prisoner and shook his head before following after Hochstetter. The prisoner was thankful that he wasn't the man the Gestapo was interested in.   


Once he was rid of the Gestapo, Major Teppel returned to his office. Before swapping von Dashden and the prisoner's Soldbuch's again, he picked up his telephone and asked be to connected to Luftstalag 13.

  
**Stalag 13  
February 6, 1944**

Kinch came up to the barracks from the tunnel below. The rest of the heroes gathered around him in the middle of the barracks.  


"I just over heard a phone call to Klink's office. Major Teppel of the SS is coming here tomorrow to question some of us."  


Hogan raised an eyebrow. "Teppel? You sure?"  


Kinch nodded. "It was him. He gave Klink a list of the prisoners he wants to question. Your name was right at the top."  


"You think he knows about Marsden and what happened?" Carter asked.  


"More than likely," Hogan said. "But I wonder if he knows Newkirk is in Berlin."  


"How would he know?" LeBeau asked. "Unless..."  


Hogan shook his head. "I don't even want to think about that. We'll just wait and see when he gets here."

  
**Stalag 13  
February 7, 1944**

The next morning, after roll call, Kinch went down to the tunnel to listen in on any more phone calls that came to Klink's office. Particularly if any came in or went out while Major Hochstetter was there. Hogan, Carter and LeBeau were in the Colonel's quarters listening in on the coffee pot. Not ten minutes passes when the Kommandant's phone rang.  


  


Kommandant, I have Gruppenführer Steuben on the phone for Major Hochstetter, Hilda said.   


Ah, excellent. Put him through please. Klink covered the mouth piece and looked at Hochstetter. General Steuben from Berlin for you - Oh, yes hallo, Herr General! This is Kommandant Klink speaking. Heil Hitler! Yes, he's right here...  


Hochstetter snatched the phone away. Guten Tag, Herr General. Heil Hitler.  


Major, I am calling for a status on your plan. Have you determined that the information from Major Hegel's file is true and accurate? Is the American POW Colonel Hogan operating a sabotage operation from that camp??  


Begging the General's pardon, I do not trust the security of this phone line. I will call you back from my office in Duseldorf later today with an update.  


Understandable Herr Major. I look forward to hearing your report. Heil Hitler.  


Heil Hitler, Herr General." Hochstetter quickly hung up the phone.

  
Kinch tossed the handset down and made a dash for the ladder. The box spring clattered and the mattress lifted up with Kinch practically leaping out of the tunnel entrance.  


The rest of the heroes came out of Hogan's quarters.   


"He shushed that General up quick," Hogan said.   


You were right about Hochstetter," Kinch said. "He _is_ trying to flush us out. The General wanted to know if the information from a Major Hegel's file was accurate and quote, is the American POW Colonel Hogan running a sabotage operation from _this_ camp? unquote.  


Every head in the barracks looked up or turned to Colonel Hogan. Hogan stared at Kinch in momentary alarm. That means he knows _everything_..."  


Kinch nodded.  


Hogan turned from the men and paced for a moment, keeping his thoughts to himself.  


Major Hegel ? Carter said. Ain't that the fella that we had to pay those diamonds to?  


The same, Kinch replied.  


LeBeau piped in. The one that knew everything about us.  


And I thought all that information died with him, Hogan said, returning to the group and stopping his pacing. I didn't figure he kept notes.  


Sir! Major Hochstetter's leaving.  


Hogan went over to the window to see the staff car leave the compound. "Heading to Duseldorf to talk to that General, no doubt..."  


"Everything is ready, Colonel," Carter said. "We're just waiting on your command. We can be out of here in 10 minutes."  


"Hochstetter has a lot of Gestapo guards around," LeBeau cautioned.  


Hogan nodded. "I don't want to risk a mass escape, it's too dangerous. Besides, I refuse to give Hochstetter the satisfaction of being right." 

  
**Stalag 13  
February 7, 1944**

Peter drove Major Teppels car into the yard of Stalag 13 and brought it up to the front porch of Colonel Klink's office. He got out and opened the back door for the Major and Serilda. The three of them walked up the steps, saluting the guard as they went in.  


Fraulien Hilda stood up. The Colonel is expecting you Major, she said. She went to the Kommandant's office door and announced the Major's arrival.  


Newkirk stayed behind the Major, keeping his face obscured as much as possible from Hilda even though he now wore a mustache. A moment later the Kommandant came out to greet his guest.  


Ah, Herr Major, welcome! A pleasure always Klink invited the Major and his staff members into the office.  


Teppel introduced Peter and Serilda as his driver and secretary respectively. Peter clicked his heels and nodded to the Colonel but otherwise hung back. Colonel Klink didn't seem to notice if Peter looked familiar.  


"Now, Major, I have distributed the list to my sergeant of the guard, he will be bringing the prisoners you wish to question here to my office."  


"Excellent, Colonel."  


Klink smiled and gave an extra beaming smile to Serilda, who handled it with grace.   


"My secretary will take dictation during the questioning," Teppel said. "I don't figure this to take too long and I appreciate your accommodating me on such short notice."  


"Oh no trouble, Herr Major," Klink said, still smiling. "My stalag, is your stalag."   
  
  
Over in the barracks, Colonel Hogan and the men had seen Teppel's car come in to the compound and the two additional people Teppel had with him. They then gathered in the Colonel's quarters to listen in but it was cut short up hearing from one of the other prisoners that Schultz was walking across the yard from the office to the barracks. The plug was pulled on the coffee pot in Hogan's quarters and the heroes returned to general quarters before Schultz came in with a paper in his hand.  


Colonel Hogan. Major Teppel of the SS would like to speak with you.  


We've got a full house today, don't we Schultz? Major Teppel, Major Hochstetter  


Major Big Shots, Schultz concurred.   


Major pains in the backside if you ask me, LeBeau said.  


Okay, Schultz, I'll go talk to the nice SS man. Hogan smiled and walked out of the barracks with Schultz following.  


Back at Klink's office, Schultz announced the Colonel to Major Teppel and then let Hogan into the office. The Kommandant vacated the office, although he asked Major Teppel more than once if there was any way that he could stay during the questioning. Teppel said there was no reason for the Kommandant to be present and Klink was essentially pushed out of the office. Hogan looked at Peter and Serilda, waiting for the door behind him to close. When it did, he stepped forward and spoke.  


I have to admit I'm surprised to see the two of you here.  


Is it safe to speak in here? Teppel asked.  


Hogan nodded. The only listening devices in here are ours.  


Peter grinned and the Major nodded in relief. They are fortunate to be here with me, Colonel. Things got a little hairy in Berlin.  


We know you got to Marsden; London dropped the treason charge and said he told them he had been compromised by the Gestapo. What else happened?  


Marsden had a Gestapo agent following him all the time, Peter said. When Serilda and I made contact with him, I went in as an SS officer looking to defect. None of us knew the other guy at the table was the bloody Gestapo. After we got Marsden's family out of Berlin and on it's way to England, the Gestapo busted me. It was sheer luck that the Major here came to find out what was going on.  


And the only reason I did that was because the information the Gestapo gave me was that he had been seen talking to Marsden, who I hadn't been able to contact for almost a week.  


In other words, sheer luck, Hogan said. Any idea where Marsden is now?  


Probably Switzerland, Serilda replied. Hopefully on his way to England.  


Then he was successful in removing all trace of his operation in Berlin?  


Serilda nodded.   


Good. Because I may need his help in removing all traces of _this_ operation.  


"Then you know Hochstetter is trying to cook your goose?" Teppel said.  


Hogan nodded and looked at Peter. "You remember about a year ago, a Gestapo officer named Hegel? He knew everything about us and wanted 1 million dollars in diamonds for his silence?"  


Peter nodded. "Yeah...but we bumped 'em off..?"  


"Yeah, we did, but apparently he kept notes. Hochstetter got a hold of some file this guy had and he's waiting for the right opportunity to bust this place wide open. He played it cool when he got here, giving the story that you were looking to defect and that he wanted to talk to you. When he heard you were supposed to be in the hospital, he went to see if you were really there. Not finding you, he's since clamped down on this camp like you've escaped. He's been keeping a particular watch on our barracks and he's brought in the radio truck. This morning we found out just what he knew and how he knew it. Some General called wanting a report on _us_ but Hochstetter shushed him and then left here like a shot to call this General back from Duesseldorf. I have everything ready should we have to make a quick break, but I wasn't sure if you would make it back here in time.  


"He figured out Peter was under the name Hans von Dashden," Teppel added. "He couldn't confirm it because I swapped Peter's von Dashden identity with another prisoner's temporarily. Hochstetter came to SS Headquarters in Berlin yesterday to view the prisoner and was quite disappointed that it was _not_ Newkirk."  


Hogan nodded. "That throws him off the trail long enough. Now we have to figure how to beat him at his own game."  


"I may have a suggestion," Teppel said.  


"I'm open to anything," Hogan said.  


Teppel smiled. "We'll do exactly as you said. We'll beat him at his own game."

  
After working out a plan and some details quickly, Hogan left the office and Teppel questioned the remaining prisoners on the short list. Teppel then met with Klink, the conversation being overheard by Hogan and the others in the barracks.  


"That did not take you very long, Major," Klink said.   


"Just a few questions, Colonel. I had no intention of doing a full length interrogation."  


"I see."  


"Again, I do appreciate you accommodating me on such short notice."  


"No trouble at all. Anything to assist the Obeveur."  


Teppel smiled. "Which the SS appreciates. Tell me Colonel, has a Gestapo Major named Hochstetter been here inquiring about an RAF pilot, Peter Newkirk?"  


"Yes. Yes, he has. In fact, he was he earlier."  


"Is he saying that Newkirk is looking to defect?"  


"Yes..." Klink stared at Teppel. "Major, how do you know of that--" Klink stopped short. "I mean, how did the SS become aware of that? My understanding was that it was not highly publicized information."  


"The Obeveur has been watching what Hochstetter has been doing. Colonel, what I'm about to tell you is very sensitive and I trust that you will treat it as such."  


"Of course, Major."  


"The Obeveur has reason to believe that Major Hochstetter is attempting to commit treason."  


Klink looked at Teppel so wide eyed his monocle fell from his eye. He caught it, clumsily and looked back at Teppel. "Major _Hochstetter??_"  


Teppel nodded and worked to hold back his laugh. "Ja...I am only telling you this to warn you so that he does not try to implicate you in anything."  


"Implicate _me??_" Klink said, alarmed.  


Teppel raised a hand. "You are in no way under any suspicion, Colonel. But another reason that I came here from Berlin is to confront the Major. My questioning of the prisoners is only to confirm his actions. Do you know when the Major will be back?"  


"I believe he will be back later this afternoon. He's gone to Dusseldorf to call Gruppenfuher Stueben."  


"Hmm....very well then. I will be staying at the hotel in Hamelburg. If you would contact me please when the Major comes back here to camp."  


"Certainly, Herr Major, certainly!"  


Over in the barracks, Hogan smiled. "Gentlemen, get ready for a German version of the Spanish Inquisition." 

~End Part Three~

Part Four


	4. OHF: Chapter Four

**Hamelburg, Germany  
February 7, 1944 **

Anjte had watched the four Gestapo officers for the past couple of days. They loitered around Serilda's apartment building and the haufbrau she worked at, asking about her, where was she and when was she expected to return. Regulars of the haufbrau and tenants of the apartment building gave no concrete answers. They all acted as if they hardly knew anything about her.   


Like a moth to the flame, Anjte felt compelled to keep her eye on the Gestapo even though they terrified the hell out of her. No distance was comfortable enough, but as long as she wasn't seen by them, Anjte kept watch. Serilda had been gone nearly a week and Anjte didn't want to see her friend come back and walk into a Gestapo homecoming and Anjte herself certainly didn't want to meet up with any of them.   


She didn't know specifically why they were looking for Serilda but Anjte knew it could have been for anything. What Anjte didn't know was how could Serilda be forewarned and who could Anjte trust and tell?  


She lingered around the haufbrau long enough one afternoon, after the Gestapo men would leave, that the bartender noticed. He also recognized her as one of Serilda's friends and figured she was just as concerned about the Gestapo as he was. He took a break from tending the bar and took a serving of coffee over to her.  


Anjte looked up, startled. "Oh...Danke.."  


He smiled and sat down across from her. "You look like you could use it."  


"Ja, I think so..." She took a sip and smiled at him. "It's delicious."  


"House specialty. Serilda helped with it."  


She looked at him at the mention of Serilda's name and then realized her look alone probably revealed too much. She stared back down at her coffee cup.  


"It's okay," he said. "She is my friend too. We fight on the same side in the same battle."  


Anjte paused. "They are looking for her," she said quietly.  


"I know. The munitions depot explosion in Essen about a month ago. Of course, no one here has anything to say of it."  


"They have been watching her apartment. I am worried she will come back and they will catch her."  


"You know she has gone to Berlin?"  


"Yes..but I don't know when she is to come back."  


The bartender paused. "My understanding is she would return first to Hamelburg Hospital, but there is the possibility she could go to her apartment ." He looked Anjte. "At the hospital, there is a Dr. Weinstein that would be waiting for her. Would you be willing to go there and tell him the Gestapo is waiting for her?"  


"How would he would know to trust me?"   


"Simple. Tell him Bruno sent you."  


So Anjte did. She tried not to appear nervous asking the receptionist at the hospital to see Dr. Weinstein and tried to sit as calmly as possible while waiting for the doctor. Dr. Weinstein was cautious but courteous when he came to greet Anjte but as soon as she said that Bruno had sent her, he knew the young woman could be trusted.  


Hearing that the Gestapo was waiting for Serilda was alarming to the doctor. He thanked Anjte for telling him this and told her he would make sure Serilda did not go back to her apartment, as long as Anjte would continue to watch the apartment. Anjte said she would.   


Which was what she was doing when she saw an SS staff car pull up to Serilda's apartment building. After leaving Stalag 13, Major Teppel had dropped Peter back at the hospital and drove on to drop Serilda off at her place. Anjte saw the woman get out of the car but didn't immediately recognize Serilda dressed in an SS secretary's uniform. The staff car pulled away and the woman climbed the stairs and disappeared into the lobby of the apartment building.  


The Gestapo did not seem overly concerned as they watched the staff car drive away. But Anjte wondered... She crossed the street nonchalantly and walked down the sidewalk to the stairs of the apartment building. She passed one Gestapo officer, giving a courteous nod and headed up the steps. Another Gestapo officer looked at a photograph and then at Anjte. His eyesight was apparently not such that he recognized the woman in the SS secretary's uniform either. But then again, he wasn't looking for a spy to show up dressed as an SS secretary.  


Anjte entered the building and saw the woman standing at the mail boxes, fishing for a key from her purse. She walked up beside her, recognized it was Serilda and spoke softly.  


"I thought you were supposed to return to the hospital?"  


"I was but the plan changed."  


"The Gestapo men are looking for you..."  


Serilda paused after pulling her key out of her purse.   


"They have been waiting for the past few days..."

  
At the hospital, after meeting up with Dr. Weinstein, Peter was escorted quickly to an empty room.   


"Where is Serilda?"  


"Major Teppel took her to her apartment."  


Dr. Weinstein shook his head. "He should not have. The Gestapo is waiting for her there!"  


"What?!"  


"Come, we must stop them from getting there, or get them out." Peter's arm was pulled on and the two men quickly left the room.

"Are they upstairs?" Serilda asked. She put her key back in her purse.  


"I don't know. What does it matter? You could leave now. They did not recognize you when you walked in, you can walk out. Walk down the street, get out of here."  


"I don't think it's that simple..." Serilda cast a cautious glance toward the front door and then turned to Anjte. "Come with me."  


"But--"  


"It's okay, come with me." She gently took Anjte by the hand and they walked to the stairway.  
  


Peter and Dr. Weinstein had jumped into the doctor's truck and had been well on their way by the time Anjte had first crossed the street. The were now cutting through traffic and were only five minutes away from the apartment building.  


Peter held on to the door handle for his own dear life and prayed for Serilda's. "I can't believe it," he said. "How could they have known?"  


"They may not know of your trip to Berlin. Serilda has taken part in other Underground operations, it could be for one of those."  


"I don't know...they knew in Berlin she was a spy. They probably found her real name somehow. We have to stop 'em Doc! We can't let them catch her!"  


"I make no argument of that, but I am driving as fast as I can."

Serilda shushed Anjte as they went up the stairs to the first floor. Before reaching the top of the second landing to the first floor, Serilda paused to look through the railing to see if anyone was loitering in the hall. At the far end, shadowed by the window that looked out toward the front side of the building, she could see a figure standing. She turned back to Anjte.  


"Go to the second floor landing," she whispered. "There's a back door fire escape, go out that way and go down to the alley and wait for me for only five minutes. If I don't come, you must leave."  


"Serilda--"  


"You must go. Go on!"  


Shaking, Anjte went on ahead and turned the corner to go up the next flight of stairs to the second floor. Serilda watched her go and when Anjte disappeared beyond the railing, Serilda continued her way to the first floor. She walked casually to the apartment door and removed the key to unlock it.

  
Anjte climbed down the fire escape, past the first floor and jumped down to the ground. She then looked up at the first floor, drawing in a deep breath and feeling her heart pounding in her ears. What was Serilda doing??

  
Out front, Peter and Dr. Weinstein pulled up in a much more subdued manner than that which they drove. They parked across the street and looked toward the building, spotting the Gestapo men waiting outside. They did not appear to be mobilizing for anything.  


"Maybe she didn't come back here," Peter said. "Maybe Anjte was able to warn her. Teppel could have taken her to the hotel."  


"That's possible."  


Peter looked at the building and noticed the alley way and the fire escape on the side. "If she did go in and they didn't spot her, she could have climbed down the fire escape there."  


The doctor looked and nodded. "Ja."  


"Come on, let's take a look." Peter stepped out of the truck along with the doctor. They casually crossed the street and then paused behind a parked car, waiting for the three Gestapo men to not be looking in their direction. When the opportunity came, they quickly ducked into the alley.  


Peter looked up at the first floor apartment windows but didn't see any open.

  
Serilda walked into her apartment and closed the door behind her. She went to her bedroom and removed the black necklace case from the night stand, placing it in her purse. No sooner had she done that there was a knock at the door.  
She stepped out of her bedroom and pulled the small pistol she had in her purse out. "Who is it?"  


"Gestapo! Open up!"  
  
  
  
With a little help from the doctor, Peter pulled himself up the fire escape just as the sound of a gun discharging echoed in the alley.  


Peter flinched, at first thinking the Gestapo men had spotted him and the doctor. He looked around wildly to both ends of the alley and then down at the doctor, who was anxiously looking too.  


There was shouting coming from the front of the building and Peter looked in the window behind him and saw nothing. He scaled the fire escape to look into the next one. He thought of where Serilda's apartment door was located in relevance to the front of the building and he determined he was looking into her apartment. He couldn't see much, but there was no mistaken the bullet hole in the front door.  


He pushed the window open and climbed into the apartment--at the same time the door was opening. He looked up and saw a Gestapo officer on the floor of the hall and two more were coming into the apartment. They looked down the short hallway and spotted Peter instantly.  


"Halt! _Halt!!_"  


Peter turned and jumped back out the window. The glass pane above him shattered from the Gestapo bullet. He lunged across the fire escape, yelling to Dr. Weinstein to run. The doctor took off back to where his truck was parked and Peter hauled himself down off the fire escape and ran toward the back of the building.  


Both Gestapo men had run to the window but only one looked out and saw Peter running. He attempted to fire a shot from his Luger, kicking a hole into an old wooden shipping crate as Peter passed it. The Englishman kept running like hell.  


Dr. Weinstein made it back to his truck and jumped in, bringing it to life with a terrible roar. He took off down the street, thankful to not see a single Gestapo officer come out of the front of the building. He turned the truck down the next side street heading to the street that ran behind the apartment building.  


The Gestapo agents moved back through Serilda's apartment quickly meeting up with the third one. The two quickly told the third about seeing someone in an SS uniform jump out the back window. While one stayed behind to search the apartment, the other two went off to report to headquarters of what had just taken place. The one that had to search didn't find Serilda...or much of anything suspicious in the apartment.  


Peter didn't see Anjte at the backside of the building because she had taken off after the first gun shot. He kept running in the direction opposite of Dr. Weinstein.  


Dr. Weinstein sped up and saw Peter running up the street. He gave a quick honk on the horn and slowed down as the came up to Peter but didn't stop. Peter ran along side the truck and grabbed the tailgate, pulling himself up inside. Once the doctor saw he was in, he stepped on the accelerator.  


Peter climbed through the back of the truck and made his way to the front, settling into the passenger seat. "What the bloody hell was _that??_"  


"I don't know! Did you see Serilda?? What was the gun shot??"  


"No, I didn't see Serilda, not that I had a lot of time to look around. But there was a bullet hole in her front door and a Gestapo officer sprawled on the floor in the hallway. _Somebody_ had to be inside the apartment to put a hole like that in the door."  


The doctor just shook his head, not knowing what to make of it. The truck rumbled on back to the hospital. 

  
**Gestapo Headquarters  
Dusseldorf, Germany  
February 8, 1944**

Major Hochstetter didn't make it back to Stalag 13 until the next morning, having been detained most of the previous afternoon by the bizarre events at an apartment building in Hamelburg. The details he had made little sense. Four officers had been assigned to watch for Serilda Bachman's return, a woman wearing an SS secretary's uniform entered Fraulien Bachman's apartment, the officer who witnessed that event was then shot through the door of said apartment, two of the other officers responded to the gun shot and saw what appeared to be an SS officer was in the apartment who then escaped out the fire escape. Also another man was seeing running from the scene. And somehow, in all the confusion, the woman who had entered the apartment had disappeared.  


Hochstetter was very disappointed. His plans to expose Colonel Hogan had started to unravel and now, his only solid lead on the munitions depot explosion had vanished into thin air.  


Little did the Major know, his day was not going to get any better.

  
**Hamelburg Hospital  
Hamelburg, Germany  
February 8, 1944**

Peter didn't sleep well. Having Serilda disappear, not knowing if she was dead or alive upset him greatly. He never got to say goodbye and all he had to look forward to now was the heartache. It was already beginning and he knew it was only going to get worse.  


Dr. Weinstein tried to help by offering Peter encouraging words and even a sedative to try to sleep, but the young pilot's dreams woke him up as the events of the past week collided together and Serilda kept fading away into the shadows.  


By the time the morning rolled around, Peter was exhausted but there was no chance for sleep. The sounds of the hospital and the traffic outside kept him awake and finally he just sat up. He rubbed his hands over his face and stretched but found that made little improvement of his tired state.  


Around quarter to ten, after Peter had dressed in his old RAF uniform and had a couple of servings of strong coffee with breakfast, Dr. Weinstein came and told Peter that Major Teppel was coming.  


"Does he know about Serilda?"  


"I told him," Weinstein nodded. "He is very sorry and feels it somewhat his fault."  


Peter shook his head. "He had no way of knowing."  


"That is true...but still, he regrets the event."  


Peter sighed. "I just wish I knew where she was..."  


The doctor nodded and patted Newkirk on the arm before turning to leave.

  
**Stalag 13  
February 8, 1944**

"Major Teppel wants to talk to me?" Hochstetter said, looking at the camp Kommandant seated at his desk.  


Klink nodded. "He asked me yesterday when he was here questioning a few of the prisoners to let you know that he is looking to speak with you."  


"Hmmm....should be the other way around. I would be curious to speak to him about a few things," Hochstetter said. "Which prisoners did he question?"  


Klink rattled off the short list, finishing with Colonel Hogan.  


"Colonel Hogan...." Hochstetter repeated, very curious now. "If you don't mind, Kommandant, I'd like to speak to Colonel Hogan myself." Hochstetter turned and left the office. He marched across the compound to Barracks Two and the door was opened for him before he got there.  


He stopped and then stepped into the barracks and looked around intently. Colonel Hogan sat at the table with the other heroes, shuffling a deck of cards.  


"Hey Major," Hogan greeted. "Care to join us for an innocent game of cards?"  


"No...I would like to speak with you for a moment, Colonel, if possible."  


Hogan grinned. "Certainly. Step right into my office here..." The Colonel stood up and walked to his quarters with Hochstetter following.  


Hochstetter closed the door as Hogan turned to face him. "What's on your mind, Major?"  


"Major Teppel of the SS Obeveur was here yesterday, Ja?"  


"Ja, we had a nice chat. Huh, word sure does travel fast around here. How'd you know that?"  


"Colonel Klink told me. He also said that Teppel was looking to speak with me as well."  


Hogan turned his gaze off to the side and smiled. "Yeah....yeah, he is."  


"You know what it is he wants to talk to me about?"  


Hogan looked up. "Oh yeah. It's a doozy let me tell you."  


"Perhaps you could tell me?"  


"Well, I suppose I could but...I really don't think you'd like it."  


"Really?? Hmmm...." Hochstetter paced for a moment. "It wouldn't have anything to do with Underground operations in this area....infact, in _very_ close proximity to this camp, would it?"  


"No..." Hogan said with thought. "No, that wasn't the line of questioning I got."  


"No? Isn't it true Colonel Hogan that you are running a sabotage operation from _this_ camp?"  


Hogan looked at Hochstetter and burst out laughing. "Me?? A sabotage operation from a POW camp??? Oh that's beautiful!"  


"You find that amusing, Colonel?"  


"I find that an absolute riot! You sure have an interesting sense of what I can and can't do as compared to what the Army Air Corps thought I could do. You honestly think I'm crafty and crazy enough to run a sabotage operation from _inside_ a POW camp? Let alone one of the toughest camps in all of Germany?!"  


"No, I don't think. I know! I have documentation of your activities, your radio frequencies, the tunnels--everything!"  


"Tunnels??" Hogan laughed even more. "_Tunnels?_ What did we dig it out with? The wings on my uniform??" Hogan kept laughing and held a hand up. "Stop it, you're killin' me. Wait until Teppel gets here and finds out you've been cooking this up."  


"Major Teppel more than likely will share in this discovery."  


"Ho ho I don't think so. Lemme tell you what he wanted to know, heck you might even find this funny yourself." Hogan paused to chuckle and then continued. "Major Teppel thinks that you are looking to either defect or commit some form of treason!"  


Hochstetter paled. "_WHAT?_"  


"Yeah! Ain't that a riot??"  


Hochstetter didn't say anything right away. Apparently the riot was too much.  


"Me??" he said finally. "He thinks that...._I_ am going to commit treason...?"  


"Yeah....that's pretty much what the questions alluded to." Hogan studied Hochstetter. "You're not laughing though. You don't think it's funny?"  


"Not really..." Hochstetter looked like a man who just had the wind knocked out of him and Hogan couldn't help but be amused at all.   


"Well, I think it's pretty funny," Hogan said. "I mean, the idea of you committing treason is like me being a spy."  


Hochstetter snapped out of his daze and glared at Hogan. "You _are_ a spy! And I will prove it and I will show Major Teppel that I'm not committing any form of treason!" Hochstetter turned and stormed out of Hogan's quarters. The Colonel watched him march through general quarters and out the door and grinned. 

  
Down the road from camp, an SS staff car carrying three SS guards rumbled along. Behind it, another staff car driven by Major Teppel slowed to a stop, so the passenger could be let out.  


Peter looked at the Major before closing the door. "Good luck, sir. And thank you for all you've done."  


Teppel nodded. "Good luck to _you_, Newkirk. In everything."  


Peter gave a nod and shut the door. The staff car pulled away and Peter ducked into the bushes, waiting for one last car to pass. 

  
In the compound, Major Hochstetter was half way across the yard heading back to Klink's office when the staff car carrying the SS guards Teppel had requested, pulled into the yard. The three guards spotted Hochstetter and the car came to a quick stop. Hochstetter suddenly found himself looking at the business ends of three rifles.  


"What is this??" he demanded.  


The rifles were raised higher. "Hands up!"  


Hochstetter complied.  


Over in the barracks, Hogan and his men watched gleefully. "There's a Kodak moment right there, " Hogan mused.  


Colonel Klink came out of his office to see what was going on but he quickly stepped back upon seeing the SS guards holding Hochstetter at bay. Major Teppel then drove in through the gate and brought his staff car to a stop next to the car of the guards. He emerged from the vehicle and looked at Hochstetter.  


"Guten Morgen, Herr Major," he said and smiled. "Just the person I'm looking for."

  
Newkirk, meanwhile, watched as the Gestapo staff car went by heading to camp. With the coast clear, he stepped out into the road and began walking back to Stalag 13.

  
"What is the meaning of this??" Hochstetter asked.  


"Well, Major, we have one more guest coming. I think we'll wait until he arrives before we begin our proceedings here."  


"What proceedings? Who's coming?"  


"Gruppenfurher Stohler of the Gestapo in Dusseldorf."   


"Gruppenfurher Stohler??"  


"Ja I will tell you, Major, that suspicion of treason is a very serious accusation to be made against anyone. Naturally, the Gestapo does not like to think that one of their own could think of such a thing."  


Hochstetter fumed. "I have _not_ and would not _ever_ commit treason!"  


"I have suggestions to the contrary. It'll be up to you to disprove them." Teppel turned to Klink. "Kommandant, if possible, I would like to include Colonel Hogan in these proceedings as well."  


"Colonel Hogan, Major?"  


"Yes..." Hochstetter agreed. "Let us have Colonel Hogan present during the proceedings. Because when the Major here fails to prove me as a traitor, I am going to prove that the Colonel is running a sabotage operation from _this_ camp."  


"Sabotage operation??" Klink repeated. "From Stalag 13?!?"  


Hochstetter looked at Klink. "Yes, from Stalag 13, Kommandant..." The Major's words carried an implied threat, that being if proven true, Colonel Klink might find himself on a one way trip to the Eastern Front.  


"Schultz! Go get Hogan!"  


"Jawhol, Herr Kommandant!"  


As Schultz headed for the barracks, the staff car carrying Gruppenfurher Stohler entered the camp. After the car parked, the General approached with three Gestapo guards of his own in tow.  


Hochstetter cleared his throat and stood up as straight as possible. "Uh...Gruppenfurher Stohler, I can assure you that any accusations Major Teppel has made are false--"  


"Are they??" Stohler said. "He has made some very serious conclusions regarding your conduct of the past couple of weeks. For your sake, you better hope they are false, otherwise your service to the Reich and the Furher will come to a shameful end." Stohler looked at Teppel. "Shall we begin, Major?"  


Teppel clicked his boots and nodded. "Jawhol, Herr Gruppenfurher." He looked to his SS guards who influenced Hochstetter into Klink's office with the ends of their rifles. Major Teppel followed with Stohler, his guards and Colonel Klink bringing up the rear.  


When Colonel Hogan arrived a few moments later, Major Teppel was seated behind Klink's desk, General Stohler was seated just off to the side, Major Hochstetter was seated front and center with two of the Gestapo guards posted behind him. Colonel Klink had to make do standing by his safe. One SS guard stood by the door, the other two having been posted outside the office with the third Gestapo guard.  


"Look's like the party's just about to start," Hogan said as he came in.  


"Hogan, please..." Klink said. The Kommandant hadn't had this many Gestapo and SS men in camp before and the sight was nerve wracking.  


Teppel smiled. "Welcome, Colonel. I'm sorry we don't have enough seating."  


"It's all right, I'm used to standing for long periods."  


"Hopefully we won't be here too long," Teppel said, and turned his attention to the Gestapo Major seated in the middle of the room.  


"Major Hochstetter, is it true that a Lieutenant Bernard Weisburg and a Sturmscharführer Kohler were working under your command in Berlin?"  


"Ja."  


"And they were sent there to infiltrate an Underground group run by Angus Marsden?"  


"Ja. It was all part of--"  


"Is it true Major, that Lt. Weisburg was killed and Angus Marsden had fled Berlin?"  


"Er...unfortunate but, ja"  


"Colonel Klink, would you tell us what day Peter Newkirk left this compound and went to Hamelburg Hospital?"  


"Last Tuesday."  


"And when was he discovered missing?"  


"The day after."  


"By whom?"  


Klink pointed. "Major Hochstetter."  


Teppel turned his gaze back to Hochstetter. "Isn't it true, Major Hochstetter that you went to Hamelburg Hospital knowing fully well that Peter Newkirk would not be there?"  


"Well, ja but--"  


"And isn't it true, Major, that Peter Newkirk was not looking to defect but that you were providing him additional cover for him to escape?"  


"Nein!"  


"No? Isn't that what Weisburg and Kohler were trying to do by infiltrating Angus Marsden? To find an easy way out of Germany for themselves and for you?"  


"Nein! That is not what they were doing!"  


The door to Klink's office suddenly opened and Schultz looked in. "Herr Kommandant, it's Newkirk. He has just come in the front gate."  


"Hey, hey, all right!" Hogan said and looked at Klink. "And you said you couldn't find him."  


"Hogan!" Klink scolded and then looked at Schultz. "Bring Newkirk here."  


"Jawhol, Herr Kommandant."  


Hogan grinned. "It'll be good to see ol' Newkirk again--won't it Major?" He looked at Hochstetter.  


"No, it won't..." Hochstetter looked at the General. "Gruppenfurher Stohler, I can explain everything. Major Teppel is twisting things around! Everything the Major has mentioned that I have done has been done as part of a plan to expose an enemy sabotage operation that exits in this camp!"  


"Hmmm, yes the information from Major Hegel's file. Gruppenfurher Stueben told me about that this morning, said he was disappointed that you were taking so long to produce any real results. I wonder now if you have been using this as a distraction of your real activities."  


Schultz returned with Newkirk in tow. The Englishman walked in and smiled at everyone in the room. He then looked at Hochstetter.  


"There you are," Newkirk said. He then lowered his voice. "I was waitin' for ya in town--"  


"GAH!!" Hochstetter suddenly stood up but was grabbed and held by the two guards. "Herr Gruppenfurher please! Allow me the chance to prove to you and everyone here," he pointed to Hogan and Newkirk, "that these two men are committing sabotage! They have a radio to London and there is a tunnel system that runs beneath this camp!"  


Newkirk looked at Hogan. "Us? What, has he gone mad?"  


"I dunno. He had me in stitches earlier. He really thinks I'm capable of international espionage. Can you imagine?"  


"Huh....well, I can't recall any such training when I was in pilot school sir," Newkirk said.  


"Silence," Teppel said. He looked back to Hochstetter. "If the man wishes to attempt to prove his innocence, then he should be allowed to do so. Gentlemen, we will convene in the barracks."  


"I hope you don't mind a little mess," Hogan said. "The cleaning lady hasn't been in yet."  


"Hogan!" Klink hollered.  


Major Teppel and General Stohler led the procession out of Klink's office and across the compound. Hogan and Newkirk dropped back a bit with Schultz behind them.  


"Welcome back."   


"Thank you, sir. Hochstetter looked like he was sweatin' in there."  


"He was. You missed the best part. Teppel's guards had Hochstetter at gun point."  


Newkirk grinned. "Oh, what a lovely image, sir."  


"It was."  


When Major Teppel and General Stohler came into Barracks Two, all of the prisoners stood at immediate attention. Hochstetter then came in and cast an eagle eye on each prisoner, despite the two guards that stood behind him. Klink, Hogan, Newkirk and Schultz were the last ones in.  


Hochstetter searched the barracks, checking underneath the table, pulling mattresses off the bottom bunks, checking suspicious floor boards, looking in Hogan's quarters, checking underneath foot lockers....he kept looking...and looking. And looking.   
Nothing looked anything like an entrance to a tunnel. Even the actual entrance itself was effectively disguised. Hochstetter looked right at it when he pulled the mattress off the bottom bunk that covered the entrance. The floor boards had been put back in place and the mechanism to raise the box spring and drop the slats as a ladder had been disabled. It would take them a couple of days to put it all back together, but to foil Hochstetter it was all worth it.  


General Stohler looked at Teppel. "I've seen enough, Major. Obviously there is not a sabotage operation taking place here."  


"But there is!" Hochstetter said. "I know there is! I have an entire file documenting everything! Their radio frequencies, codes, the tunnel system. Everything! I just need a little more time--"  


"You've been given sufficient time, Herr Major," Stohler said. "It is apparent that you have used that time for other activities."  


"I have not! Weisburg and Kohler were sent to disrupt Marsden's operation." Hochstetter stood flustered for a moment and then looked at Teppel. "What about--what about Hans von Dashden? Has Major Teppel explained that to you??"  


"Yes, he has. Hans von Dashden was sent to Berlin to check up on what Lt. Weisburg and Sergeant Major Kohler were really doing. Weisburg was killed when von Dashden confronted him, tried to kill von Dashden. An unfortunate turn of events but it appears Weisburg was willing to risk everything to try to get out of Germany, and to try to help you get out as well."  


"That's a lie! I would never consider treason!"  


"You know..." Hogan's voice carried calmly, "in fairness to the major it is possible that Weisburg or whatever his name is, may have had his own agenda. When the SS showed up, Weisburg probably pointed the finger at the Major here in order to try to take the heat off of him. Of course, he ended up getting killed anyway."  


Teppel nodded. "The possibility is noted. However, I'm surprised Colonel that you would offer something in defense of Major Hochstetter here, after he has tried, repeatedly to accuse you of spying and sabotage."  


"Well, I have a peculiar sense of honor. Besides, Hochstetter's just doing his job. Even if the information he was working from is false."  


Hochstetter gaped at Hogan. On the brink of being hanged and pulled back by the casual suggestion from an American POW...  


"It's obviously false, isn't it Major?" Hogan asked, while casting a look at Hochstetter that said, _if you say no, I'll dig your grave for you..._  


"Uh...it would appear I have been following a false lead...."  


"And I am inclined to believe the Colonel's suggestion that Lt. Weisburg had an agenda of his own and was looking to smear his superior officer when things went wrong," General Stohler said. "Still, I will need to compile all of this information for my report and final decision."  


Hochstetter swallowed. "Jawhol..." Well he was sorta off the hook.  


"You will dismiss your men from Stalag 13, Major, and will be escorted back to headquarters in Dusseldorf by the guards here."  


"Jawhol, Herr Gruppenfurher."  


"That will be all here. Major Teppel." Stohler nodded to the SS Major. Teppel in turn bowed slightly as the General departed.   


The barracks cleared out, Teppel being the last one to leave. He turned to the heroes and gave a smile with a thumbs up. The heroes nodded and smiled in thanks as the Major slipped out the door. 

  
Peter had enough time to tell the Colonel and the others of what happened in Hamelburg before Schultz came to fetch the two of them to see Kommandant Klink. A few moments later, Newkirk and Hogan stood in the middle of Klink's office.  


"Corporal Newkirk," Klink began. "Do you mind telling us where you've been for the past week?"  


"Hamelburg, sir."  


"The whole time?"  


"Yes, sir."  


"You were in Hamelburg the _whole_ time and not once were you spotted by Major Hochstetter's men or the camp guards??"  


Newkirk grinned. "Correct, sir."  


"You weren't really sick were you at the time you left here to go Hamelburg Hospital?"  


"No sir, I wasn't."  


"And you had no intention of defecting to our side did you?"  


"Hell no."  


Klink scowled. "So, corporal, having eluded capture for a week, why all of a sudden did you decide to return to camp today?"  


"Well sir, because of all the Gestapo men and the guards from here, I couldn't do much. I figured I'd just come back here. Have to admit, I kinda missed the old place."  


"Hmm...well seeing as you missed it so much, I'm giving you thirty days in the cooler for trying to escape!"  


"Now Colonel, wait a minute--" Hogan started.  


"Thirty days and no less! Punishment to begin immediately! Disssss-misssed!"  


With nothing more to say, Hogan and Newkirk left the office. They walked out of the building and paused on the porch.   


"Small price to pay sir," Newkirk said and smiled.  


Hogan patted Newkirk on the shoulder. "We'll see if we can get you out for good behavior." 

  
**Stalag 13  
February 9, 1944**

About an hour after the noon roll call, two young women arrived at the camp gate with a small push cart, loaded with vegetables and German breads and muffins. They sweet talked the guards and Schultz to let them in for a moment and this scene did not go unnoticed by Colonel Hogan and the heroes. They, with several other prisoners, gathered at the cart to sample the vittles and the Colonel noticed that one of the women looked very familar.  


Serilda smiled at him. Anjte and the other prisoners effectively kept Schultz distracted as Hogan stepped closer to Serilda. She surreptitiously removed a small locket case from beneath a loaf of bread and turned to Hogan, slipping it inside his bomber jacket.  


"Special delivery?" he said.  


She smiled. "Yes. Would please see that Peter gets that?"  


He nodded. "I will. He'll be very happy to see this."  


"Is he okay, Colonel?"  


"He's all right, other than having to spend thirty days in the cooler for trying to escape." He paused. "He thought maybe you had been killed after what happened in Hamelburg."  


"He was there?"  


Hogan nodded.  


"I knew I would have to flee but I did not think that he would be there to see it all happen. I am glad I came here then."  


"He'll be glad you did too. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"  


"There is a note in the case. The only other thing I could give him, you can't pass along to him."  


"What is it?"  


Serilda glanced to see what Schultz and the other guards were doing and then placed a quick kiss on the Colonel's lips.  


He grinned. "You're right, I can't pass that along."  


She smiled at him and patted him on the arm. "Thank you, Colonel. For all you have done."  


Hogan nodded.   


Schultz now decided that it was time for the women to be on their way. With his coat full of vegetables and bread, he shooed the prisoners away from the cart and ordered the guards to open the front gate and let the women leave. The women did so as ordered and Shutlz was thankful that the Kommandant didn't see any of this  
  
  
Later that afternoon, Hogan paid a visit to Newkirk.   


"Got something to perk you up a little bit..." Hogan said and reached into his jacket. He pulled the locket case out and handed it to Newkirk. He didn't say where he got it right away.  


Newkirk looked at the case and then carefully opened it. Tucked to the top side of the case was a piece of paper. Displayed on the velvet board was a gold necklace with a heart shaped locket with the initials "_SB_" in a fine script on the front and the word "_Freedom_" etched on the back. Inside the locket were two pictures, one a man and the other a woman. The woman looked very much like Serilda and Peter figured he was looking at her parents. He pulled the piece of paper from the top side of the case and then looked at the Colonel.  


"This was Serilda's," he said.  


Hogan nodded. "She came to camp with another woman looking like peddlers a little while ago. She left that for you. I told her what you saw in Hamelburg. She had no idea you were there but was glad she was leaving this for you so you would know she was okay."  


Newkirk smiled. "I'm glad she left it too. Thank you, sir."  


Hogan nodded. He then turned to leave to let Peter read the note alone. Once the Colonel was gone, Newkirk unfolded the paper...

_Dear Peter,  
  
This is short as I do not have a lot of space. Anjte and I are on our way to England with help from Emil. I hope this note and the locket get to you safely and that you are well. As long as you hold this locket close to your heart you will always be in mine. When the war ends, and freedom has found you and the world, I am sure we will meet once again to celebrate the victory. I know it in my heart._

_ Love,  
  
Serilda_

He smiled and folded the note back as it was, carefully tucking it back into the locket case. He then closed the case and held it to his heart.

~The End~

  
  
**Author acknowledgments: Special thanks to Dreamer for her early reading of this story and valuable input, and to Cuz for the very effective incentive program to finish the story. LOL. Also, thanks to the boys of Stalag 13 for being my creative salvation in my own tumultuous time. Email me with comments at MaryACltrn@aol.com =) **


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